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blue-blue-blooms · 1 month

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When Love Isn't Enough

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Part 1

1.6k words

Summary: Steve can feel you pulling away. You haven't been yourself in a while, becoming more and more withdrawn. It doesn't help that there's an evil wizard on the loose and you meet the checklist for the perfect prey.

Warnings: Some angst. Talks of depression, loneliness, and suicidal ideation.

"Y/N hasn't been herself lately. And, I don't know, she's been pulling away recently. Not physically. More, like, she's there but she isn't. She's in the room with me and she's pretending to listen, but I can tell she's thinking about something else. And it isn't like she's bored or, like, daydreaming, she just seems...distant. She keeps saying she's fine, but I know that she's not. I mean, she thinks I haven't noticed, but she doesn't eat much anymore. She barely sleeps and she claims it's because of school, or work, or whatever excuse she has...Robin, are you listening to me?" Steve rambles, one hand on the steering wheel and the other running through his hair in frustration, as he drives Robin to the pep rally.

"Yes, yes, I'm listening!" Robin exclaims, desperately trying to keep her hand steady as she applies her mascara.

"Really? What'd I just say then?" Steve asks.

"Something about how obsessed you are with Y/N and the smell of her hair," Robin guesses, immediately backtracking as she sees the look on Steve's face, "I'm sorry! But there's always so much going on in your love life. I can't fully grasp the labyrinthine complexity that is your and Y/N's relationship!"

"It's not that complex, I'm worried about her!" Steve says, "Like just today, she calls me and says not to drive her and Dustin to school because they're biking. She doesn't even own a bike!"

Robin stops applying her makeup for a second and looks over. Realizing the severity of Steve's emotions, she lets out a little sigh and gives him a gentle nudge with her hand.

"I'm worried about her, too" She confesses, "I don't think she's mentioned this to anyone so please don't bring it up with her, but her grades have been slipping. A lot."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I've seen her at the counsellor’s office" Robin admits.

"Ms. Kelley?"

Robin nods.

"Well...Why didn't she say anything to me?" Steve asks, his face falling as he tries to come up with reasons as to why you aren't opening up.

"I...I don't know. She hasn't been speaking to me, either. We sit together during lunch, but she barely talks to me. I just talk at her, and she just sits in silence," Robin replies, "Have you tried bringing this up with her?"

Steve pauses for a bit then says, "No...I didn't wanna push her. It just feels like...like she's teetering on the edge these days, and if I say the wrong thing, she'll run."

♡♡♡

Most days start like this: you wake up gasping for breath, one hand on your chest and the other stifling your sobs. Another nightmare. Sometimes it's about the Russians, sometimes it's about finding a Demogorgon eating your cat, sometimes it's about Billy and the Mind Flayer, sometimes it's about losing Hopper, but every time it hurts just as bad. You wish you hadn't gone to Mike Wheeler's that day to check up on Dustin. You wish you hadn't found out about Eleven or the lab or the Upside Down. But everything in your life is so deeply intertwined that you would have found out one way or another. It's beyond you how everyone else in Hawkins has remained so oblivious.

Even though you wish you could rewind and take back every moment that led you to where you are now, you know in your heart that you wouldn't. If it wasn't for all the shit you had to go through, you wouldn't have the people you have now. You wouldn't have ever befriended Nancy Wheeler. You would've never met Robin Buckley. You and Dustin would never have grown as close as you are now. You wouldn't have the golden-dusted, happy memories that you made last summer with Max and El. You never would've learned how to play DnD with Will. And you never would have fallen in love.

You never saw Steve coming. Well, you did see him coming that day when you and Dustin were at the Wheelers looking for everyone. He had roses in his hands, and he was mumbling to himself. For a second, you thought he'd caved into the insanity of what he'd gone through and lost his mind.

"Are you talking to yourself?" you'd asked loudly, making him quickly turn around, "Do you need help?"

"What? No! I was just-" he'd stuttered, "What're you two doing here? Actually, who are you?" The last question was directed at you.

"Who am I? The bitch that sat behind you in English for two years. I've been lending you pencils for months. Are you serious-" you'd snapped at him, a little offended at him for not recognizing you.

"We don't have time for this!" Dustin yelled, interrupting you, as he took your hand and dragged you to Steve's car.

You always laugh a little when you remember that particular memory. It wasn't the first time you two had met (maybe for Steve) but it was the first time you'd both become aware of each other. And it was like something had clicked into place because now that you both knew each other, you couldn't drift away. Suddenly Steve was everywhere. The summer after El's bitchin new makeover and the whole debacle that was closing the gate to the Upside Down, you and Steve spent every day together. He'd started working at Starcourt and you worked at the Kiosk across from him, which meant you saw each othera lot. Soon, those days of eating free ice cream in the back turned into shy glances, nervous laughter, and stolen kisses. You were his and he was yours. It was almost perfect. Almost.

Because even with all this love, joy, and friendship, you can't forget that you're rotten to your core. That there is something deeply wrong with you, something gory and disgusting that's been eating you alive. You don't know how to tell Steve that he doesn't know. If he knew you, he'd leave you. You're so broken inside that it's almost comical. Every day starts and ends with a nightmare. Then the headaches. Sometimes the nosebleeds. Always the loud voices in your head reaffirming the beliefs you have of yourself. You're not good enough. Never have been. You're a fraud. Always have been. You don't know what's worse, when you can't breathe or when there's too much oxygen.

You call Steve and tell him you don't need a ride. Then you make Dustin bike to school, and you wait for your mother to leave for work before climbing back into bed. These days, it was getting harder and harder to do the mundane, everyday tasks. You couldn't get out of bed. You couldn't take a shower. Everything required willpower that you just didn't have.

God, I'm so pathetic.

You've nearly fallen back asleep when you hear a knock on your door. You ignore it, hoping whoever it is goes away. The knocking continues, growing louder and louder. You let out a curse and hop out of your bed, begrudgingly going to the front door. You open the door and find Steve standing outside.

"I knew it!" He exclaims, "Why aren't you in school?"

You don't have the energy for this. You just want him to leave.

"I'm sick," you lie, adding a half-assed cough, "You should be at work."

"If you were sick then why didn't you just say that when you called this morning?" Steve enquired, folding his arms across his chest, and raising an eyebrow.

"I got sick after" you shrug, "How'd you know I wasn't in school."

"Dustin, he called about some DnD shit and mentioned you weren't in when I asked why you couldn't play," Steve explains, his eyes scanning your face, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you say.

"No, you're not" Steve replies, coming in through the door and making his way into your room. You silently follow and fall back into bed.

"Baby, what's going on?" Steve asks softly, getting into bed behind you and laying down.

"Just a headache," you mumble, "I'm fine."

You feel him padding his fingers through your hair and you find yourself lulling back to sleep. But before you can, you hear him start to speak again.

"Not just today, Y/N. What's going on with you? You haven't been yourself lately."

You don't know how to answer this. How do you articulate the absolute mess that is your mind? How do you tell him that you feel like you're on the verge of going insane? How do you tell him that all you feel is agonizing despair and the only reason you're alive is because you're too much of a coward to die?

"I just...haven't been feeling well," you say, "Just haven't been doing so well."

"How can I help? Can I do anything?" Steve asks, holding you close as he brushes the hair out of your face and lays a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"I don't think anyone can fix it," you reply, turning to face him.

The sun peeks through your blinds and you can just about make out his face in the dark. You lean over and softly kiss him. He's everything that you're not but you're too selfish to let go.

"I just wish you'd speak to me, tell me what's going on in your head. I just feel locked out, baby." Steve whispers.

The only response you can manage to give is a mumbled sorry. But there's so much more you'd like to say. Sorry that you're stuck with me, you deserve better. Sorry that I'm like this. Sorry that I'm this broken, this wretched. Sorry that I've fooled you into thinking I'm better than I am. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

You close your eyes and lay your head on his chest. In the darkness of your room, you pray that this moment lasts forever. But as another nightmare sinks its claws into you, you're not sure if you'll make it out alive.

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