Without You (Steddie)

Chapter 3

TW;  depression, drug use, suicidal thoughts

"I'm not leaving until I know you're okay." 

And she didn't. She stayed with me the whole night, sitting on my bed and we just talked. Talked about everything I could muster up. The drug use, the voice, the drinking myself to sleep. 

She told me about the boys, and it hurt. It hurt a lot more than I thought it was going to. Dustin especially needed me around, and I can't even bare to see him. I can't do anything about any of this and I have proven myself to be yet another person who has left, when he needed someone the most. 

I smoked instead of drank tonight. Smoked weed, smoked cigarettes, Robin dealt with it. Even if she hates it. She's never been a fan of cigarettes. The smell, the smoke. I know it bothers her. But I can't stop. It makes my clothes smell like him. 

I can't help but feel like there's a big piece of me missing without seeing the kids, but I can't bring myself to invite any of them in. Dustin watched Eddie die, he doesn't need to see me commit slow suicide. I know it's not fair, I know he needs me right now, but I can't let him see me and my whole world continue to collapse. 

Eddie was bigger than this. He wouldn't want me to be like this. He'd tell me to go take care of our kids. He'd tell me to get over it and that I'm better than where I am now. 

But I'm not. Nobody ever stays for me. 

I guess it wasn't meant to be. 

I'm never gonna be enough. 

Robin fell asleep on my bed, sprawled out as usual. She hid the bottle from me, knowing it was my only one and that I wouldn't dare leave this room. I feel sick. 

I just want to sleep. The room's dark and quiet, aside from her small snores. 

"You have a lot to live for."

Like fucking what? You were it for me. You were fucking everything. And now I don't have shit to look forward to. My future is dead. Nobody needs a guy like me around. My dad was fucking right. I'll never amount to anything. I'm a failure, and a loser. 

Weed makes my head spin, makes me feel anxious like I'm going to fucking cry. Which I do. I can't stop it anymore. I let the tears roll down the sides of my face in the silence. 

"Please don't do this. I'm right here." 

You're not here. You're not real. 

I smoke more. Maybe if I'm delirious, I won't feel anymore. Another joint comes and goes. 

Still feeling the same. Dizzy. Tired. Sad. Anxious. 

What a fucking downer. 

I roll the joint between my fingers, eying the ember on the end, and touch it to my arm. It doesn't help. I can't even feel it. But it leaves a burn mark. You had one too. You told me it was from dropping ashes on yourself one time when you were too drunk.

We match, you know. 

We would have the same scars on our sides. The bats bit me up too. Took chunks of skin out of me. If you would have survived, maybe we could have bonded over that. Make jokes about matching, make the pain less bad about it. Make each other less self-conscious about it. 

It should have been me who died. The world would have been better off without one less ex jock loser without a fucking future. 

You were meant for so much more than this place. You were meant to be heard, and earn fame through music. Hangout with our friends and play D&D. You were supposed to meet Will, and El, and have them love you as much as we all did. 

You were supposed to be bigger than this. Bigger than the whole sky. 

Why does this hurt so bad when I was never able to tell you how I fucking felt? Why was I so scared to admit something to you that's so simple for me to say out loud now? 

I love you. 

I think I always will. 

We could have had a future. You were supposed to be my future. 

"I forgive you, you know."

It should have been me. It should have been ME. 

Robin stirs in her sleep and opens up an eye to look at me. "Babes, you need to try to sleep." She grabs one of my hands and holds it tightly. I don't deserve a friend like Robin. 

"I don't know if I can..." I choke out, I thought I was hiding my crying better than this. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on?" She sits up and wraps a hug around me. It still feels wrong. It feels like my skins on fire where her arms rest. "I want to fucking die." 

"Shh. You don't mean that." 

"No... I really do... It shouldn't have been him. He had so much more than I do to live for. What do I have? My family abandoned me. I keep pushing everyone away... I'm just some asshole." 

"Steve stop it. You're so much more than that. You matter. You matter so fucking much." 

My skin still burns. Today the pain is purple. Like a deep bruise that won't heal. Like a sickness that won't leave your body. "I don't feel like I matter." 

"You do. You matter to me. You're my best friend..."

"You matter."

"I keep hearing him. I keep hearing him say things that don't make sense as to why he would be able to hear or respond to. I'm losing my fucking mind Robin." 

"Like what? Can you tell me?" 

"He just told me I matter. He told me earlier that he forgives me. He told me he's here. How the fuck would he be here?" 

"Have... you considered maybe talking to a therapist?" 

"They're going to throw me in the fucking looney bin Robin I can't do that." 

"Then what are you going to do? Keep getting high and drunk until you fucking die? That's so much worse. That's so much worse than you just checking yourself into a hospital." 

"You know why I don't leave my house?" 

"No." 

"So I can keep hearing him. I go into the woods sometimes and he's louder. It's like he's here or something. It's like he's still around." 

"Maybe I am still around."  Stop it. 

"Well maybe he's haunting you. I don't know." 

"There's no such thing as ghost Robin. See now that's crazy." 

"Dude we were in another dimension with monsters and a fucking undead wizard and you don't believe in ghosts? Maybe you are losing it." 

"Okay but I draw the line at ghosts you know? I gotta... draw that line somewhere. I don't know." 

"Do you want to go back?"

"Go back to where?" 

"The Upside-down."

"Fuck no why would I ever want to go back?" 

"You could check... maybe... get some sort of closure."

"I....I don't know...." Maybe I do need closure. Maybe I need to take his body out of there, to bury him. To really set in the fact that he's gone and I've lost my actual mind. Maybe then I could get some peace. Some quiet. Something other than this never ending torture. "It's just a thought"

Yeah. A scary fucking thought. 

A scary thought that almost makes me want to. Almost makes me want to check. 

"Could you... could you ask El if she would... consider it?" 

"I can do that." 

"That's a bad fucking idea." 

If I go there, maybe I'll just get eaten up by some monster too and we can be together again. I won't even bring any weapons with me. Maybe that's how this is supposed to go.