Schizophrenic Steve || ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴄʟᴜᴇꜱ

The Final Clue

Joe, Steve's little brother, had always been grateful; for his mother, the needs he was provided with, his uncorrupted mentality, and the fact his big brother is alive. Joe always had faith in Steve, but moments came and passed where he seemed to lose it.

He thought about the times—in their household during their childhood. Joe was adored by his mom, maybe he was even the favorite. That's because Joe is relatively normal. Steve is a handful, and when his brother got the attention he didn't have—he didn't deserve, it became an issue.

So he turned the tables. Soon enough, Joe became the transparent, glass child. When he entered his teen years and got a better sense of the world, in his mind, he even dared Steve to die. Just do it already, he thought. Just die.

And there has been close calls. Way too many, in fact. But up until this point, somehow, Steve survived.

Steve made it through life, he got to college. He got to pursue his dream career, he majored in detectives. He's always wanted to be one, ever since he was little, even after his dad died. Maybe that actually just made him wanna carry on his legacy even more.

And Steve looked for clues so often—too often when he was in that state of delusion. Hallucinating in his house for days straight. Not getting the sense of reality. Then there was that day, when Blue led him to the cabinet with his pills inside. The label on the bottle made him lightheaded, that awful word, schizophrenia.

He scribbled over the word with a sharpie, but nonetheless, he took the pills. He took his not only for his sake, but for his career, his brother, his mother, and his dad.

Steve has been on them for a few months now and... he has been getting better. Despite the obstacles along the way, ever since he got into college. And overcoming those conflicts with loved ones. But Steve's mind was starting to clear up. He hasn't had a schizophrenic episode in about 4 months.

That wasn't the only upside—Steve was getting stronger. Both physically and mentally. Prepping for his job, he was a rookie to begin with. But he pushed himself as far enough to where he threw himself in the deep end. He trained to be part of the SWAT team, like how his father was. At first, he took some time contemplating. It was a hard decision, taking in all factors. Steve isn't that strong. And his father did die because of that job. But wasn't that on him? Possibly. He should've took in more consideration, but whatever. It doesn't matter anymore because that's the past, the future is only what Steve decides it'll be.
_
A MONTH AND A HALF LATER...

"Are you serious? How—what?" Joe was dumbfounded when he found out his brother was gonna be on the team. He wasn't sure whether he should be congratulating or condolence-ting him. Steve told him over the phone, which made him wanna hang up. But instead, he rolled his eyes so hard that even Steve could sense it from the other end. "Do you even know how to use a gun or anything?" Joe immediately took back that question, "oh—never mind."

"Yeah, after all those years of being an edgy teenager, I'd figure." Steve scoffs. "I've been on a few cases. I'm not bad at all." He adds. "Yeah, not bad for a rookie." Joe is being sarcastic in spite since he's a bit upset Steve hadn't told him sooner. "Hah. No. I know how to take aim and pull the trigger. Except this time when I do, I really have to mean it." He says.

"Well, no shit sherlock!" Joe states, which catches Steve off guard. The old Joe, well, at least Joe a few month ago, never really cussed. I guess after the shit him and Steve went through the past couple of months, it would make it seem typical. But not really. "Just don't be careless, like how Dad was."