CAPTURED BEAUTY (Peter Steele x Reader)

SEVENTEEN: Stars

Peter understands there's something wrong with him. A ticking time bomb nestles itself to anyone who dared squeeze themselves in his personal circle and the anticipation of the explosion would kill everyone, including him. He'd rather watch the world go by and stick to his tools in hopes he could fix something rather than himself. Thoughts of being broken and unworthy swirl in his mind, amplified by the lack of drugs numbing his throat and nasal cavity. He's sent in the throes of isolation, under watch and under guard feeling angry someone was paying their taxes to fund his inevitable fuck ups.

Now all he could do was sit in the silence he created.

His sisters would make their appearances every other Wednesday and the occasional Fridays in simple support of Pete. He eyes from behind a thick and reinforced pane of glass watched them sign heaps of unknown paperwork, assuming it was medical history things and visitation sign ins. Right now, Cathy decided to enter.

"Hey, Pete. How are you feeling?" Cathy asks as she sits across from her brother who slumps in his plastic chair.

"Accomplished. Just had some guy about an hour ago stab some other prick with a fork over toilet paper. Now I am one forkless man with a freshly wiped ass." He grins only to shrug it off and answers honestly when Cathy rolls her eyes. "Best as anyone can do in a crazy house."

"You're not crazy," Cathy reassures. "You just need some help."

Peter internally cringes at the thought. It makes him feel a sense of weakness he hasn't really dwelled on since before his days on the road. He sniffs and rubs his nose, natural habit as of late. "I couldn't even last a tour without crashing. I feel like I've let everyone down, y'know? Even Y/n."

"She came by to see you?"

"Yeah and I fuckin' pushed her away." Peter frowns at the thought. "I was so pissed and I don't think I can forgive myself for that." He runs his long fingers through his black hair, trying to soothe his vexations. Cathy on the other hand had listened to her brother intently and feeling hurt he was feeling. In fact, the news about Pete's drug habit set everyone on a worry streak. The tabloids of an unruly gothic frontman gone insane spread like wildfire but the publishers didn't know Peter the way his family and friends did.

"I know you have some regrets, hell, we all do but you can't beat yourself up over that. She's a good person—"

"I think I lost her, Cathy." Peter's voice wavers and he can feel the tears quickly override that deep seeded anger and resentment towards himself turn into something more. He clenches his hands into fists at his side, quickly wiping away the tears that threatened to escape. "I fucking lost her. I lost my old life. I lost everything. All because I couldn't shut my damn mouth and quit coke."

Cathy watches Peter crumble into himself, shaking like a terrified kid completely lost and afraid. She doesn't speak for a breath or two, giving him a space to feel. When he peels his hand away from his face, sniffling and blinking away tears, Cathy reaches out to hold his hand for a moment.

"Right now, we focus on getting better, okay?"

"What if I don't know how to?" Peter's shoulders relax and let go of Cathy's hand. The question sounds idiotic to him. He never really looked at it before the way he did now.

"You know how. I know you know how." Cathy lets up a small smile. "You just have to try for yourself. We're here for you."

Peter doesn't say a single word, standing to his full height along with Cathy to share a long hug. It had felt like eons he'd hug her like this. It wasn't a forced hug demanded by a nearby parent to ease the tensions or a simple make up hug. How he missed it. "Love you."