Schizophrenic Steve || ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴄʟᴜᴇꜱ

Leave A Clue

[ ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter includes topics such as suicidal thinking. If heavy topics like this trigger you I suggest not to read. ]

A/N: This chapter takes place in a setting a few years back. In here Joe is 15 and Steve is 18.
_____

You could say things started getting rough for Steve in his teenage years. They were filled with angst. As he got older he got more frustrated at the world for taking somebody he loved, his father.

It always hurt. But Steve still wanted to have a childhood so he repressed his emotions. Until it all caved in.

Even his mom noticed how bad it was getting. She wanted Steve to be happy. She did a good job at keeping him happy, Steve wanted to be happy for her. Now all these hormones kicked in, he gained more knowledge about the world and he was at his limit.

One night Mom was out, having a 'girls night'. A night where she'd typically come home early in the morning very hungover. This happened every now and then, Steve questioned why she got back home so late. She'd just tell him not to worry, that "Mommy was just having fun."

Anyway, one of these nights was when Steve was in his senior year of high school and Joe just entered sophomore year. Steve was in his room, and it's not a surprise that the state of his room was a reflection of his mind.

Floor used as wardrobe, cups everywhere, band posters, dark polaroid photos scattered. Just picture a 90s-like, messy, grunge, angsty teenagers room.

Steve kept journals to keep his mind from falling apart. He wrote often, earlier he was writing about heavy topics. Shit like self-harm, traumatic events, and suicide. Steve has considered taking his life for a few months. But now it seems like the only choice.

He was driving himself crazy. When he wasn't driving himself down this suicide rabbit hole, he'd hallucinated. It felt like he was dreaming, but he dreamed of this magical, story book like world. A world where he was unharmed. And he was only happy there.

But it wasn't real.

Steve wrote a note in this journal entry that night.

"Dear, dearest journal,
tonight's the night. I'm gonna take a whole bunch of prozac, and hopefully die. I can't wait to rest. I want my mind, my heart, everything to shut down. I want my heart to stop pumping blood. The blood is just gonna spill out my skin anyways. My mom is out, she probably won't realize I'm dead until way later. Joe is here, I'm just gonna let him have my stuff. And dad isn't here because he died 12 years ago. Well, that's a wrap. Now I just gotta figure out how to go about dying.

- Steve."

Steve closed his journal then wondered what he was gonna do with it anyways. Perhaps he could lend it to Joey. Well, as soon as he thought that, as if on cue, Joe walked in Steves room.

"Steve— oh, sorry for walking in without knocking. I forgot that mom told me to remind you to take your medicine early tomorrow morning. Hey, what are you writing?"

Steve wasn't very startled by his sudden entrance, but his eyes automatically darted towards to door. He sighed, "Joe, I was just thinking of talking to you." He got up with his journal in hand.

"I wanted you to have this. And thanks for reminding me, that's very kind but it wasn't necessary at all." He held out his journal for Joe to grab.

Joe just blinked, completely dumbfounded. "Why are you giving this to me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Here, read this page. It'll explain it."

Steve flipped to the page he had just written, he handed it to Joe. The younger brother consciously studied it, carefully reading every word for word. Each word he read made his heart more shallow. When he got done reading he froze.

Nothing felt right in that moment.

His mind felt distorted, Steve couldn't be serious. Joe tried to check up on his troubled brother every now and then. He did this because he knew he was struggling. Actually, it was more than that. It's like he was drowning in complete darkness.

Often times Steve seriously scared Joe. The eldest was a very edgy teen. Down right disturbing. He told Joe some secrets and Joe never dare told another soul.

Steve really told Joe the stuff he wasn't prepared for. But he listened, and he didn't even tell mom. Of course Steve was still getting medication though. Which calmed Joe, but he wasn't calm enough.

Now, he felt like his entire body's hollow. He couldn't bear to even look at the words, he shut it gently. He thought about whether he should completely go into panic-lockdown mode or talk his way through this. He decided to just think with his heart.

"Steve. I'm so sorry. But I really, really can't let this slide. I don't care how much pain you're in. And I don't trust you being alone. So I'm gonna make sure you live 'till the day I die."

Steve simply sighed, "Alright."

Joe stared at Steve in disbelief. "Yeah."

...

"Do you realize me dying wouldn't be a tragedy, right? If anything, it'd be mercy." Steve stated.

"... Do you just want me to go back to what I was doing? Just live a life without you?" Joe asked blankly. "Hey, I said I'd let you have my stuff. Sure, I'll be gone physically, but in a way I'll definitely be with you." He replied. Joe glanced down, his eyes filled with painful tears.

"It wouldn't really be the same." The child cried. "Do you expect me to stay?" Steve scoffed. "Yes, I guess I'm pretty foolish to think that though. Without you I'd just be in the basement, alone, rereading your entries. Watching the tapes of true crime documentaries you'd watch." Joe's voice cracked as he struggled to not choke on his tears.

Steve glanced at his baby brother, tears spilling out his hurt eyes. "I'm sorry. Sorry for being a shitty older brother."

Joe wiped his tears off his face with his sleeved and looked back at Steve. "What? Do you hear yourself? Don't you remember what you did for me? In school, when you'd defend me both verbally and physically. And we played games together. And have long conversations, about anything." He paused, "I wish you could see yourself how I see you."

...

"I'll take my medicine tomorrow morning."