Steve isn’t coping.
It starts small.
Being around his friends and even the kids doesn’t sound as fun anymore. It begins to feel draining and like maybe he should’ve stayed home and wallowed in his bed instead.
But he’s good at hiding it.
It starts small.
Being around his friends and even the kids doesn’t sound as fun anymore. It begins to feel draining and like maybe he should’ve stayed home and wallowed in his bed instead.
But he’s good at hiding it.
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He’s strong though.
A leader in the group. The brave and fearless one. Cracking isn’t allowed. Not in front of them.
But it’s hard.
Getting dressed is hard.
Taking a shower is hard.
Being around people who love him and think he’s indestructible is so fucking hard.
Instead of understanding, he’s met with laughter by some of the kids.
“Steve Harrington, slayer of demodogs and demobats, scared of the dark? Yeah, right… Good one, dude.”
He covers his watering eyes with his own chuckles. They’re probably right and he’s just being a baby.
He confesses that he’s afraid and that he still jumps at loud noises sometimes.
Again, he’s pushed aside with, “That’s all in the past now. Let it go, Steve. Dwelling on it won’t help anyone.”
Steve tries.
He tries and tries to move on like they are, but nothing works for him.