The Outsiders Headcannons

**SAD** Steve Comes Home

He came home. He came home and you tell yourself that it's a good thing, that's it's the best thing. He came home and you convince yourself that everything's back to normal.
     Only it's not. Is not and it's a lie that it will ever be again. His eyes don't sparkle like they did before, and his hands used to be the steadiest thing you had felt in the universe, but now they won't stop shaking. He's not him anymore.
     Part of you wonders if he ever really came back, but you already know the answer. And it's no. Steve died somewhere out there in the trenches, he died and the boy who came back to you isn't really him. It's an imposter, a ghost of who he used to be.
     Sometimes you think you can see the shadow of a smile on his face but he always loses it just as fast.
    He doesn't eat the way he used to. When you bring him cake, he turns it away. Or he talks a lot between bites, to make you think he's eating but you always see leftovers in Darry and Ponyboy's fridge.
     He feels guilty and betrayed and he knows he's not him anymore. He doesn't sleep the way he used to either. He used to spread out, cuddling you and awaken lazily. Softly, always kissing you good morning. But now he awakens and you can see the flick of his fingers, watching the way he's so accustomed to pulling a trigger.
     He doesn't touch you anymore. Before he left, he could never get enough of you. Before he left, you'd have the familiarity of his hands on you every day.
     Now you're touch starved.
     And he feels guilty but he's so scared that if he touches you, you'll crumble like sand. So scared of ruining you because you're so beautiful and bright, and his world isn't the way it used to be. He creates a barrier between you and him in the sheets. There's always a cold space between you now, and you've stopped trying to break it.
     When he thinks you're not home, you can hear him screaming and pounding away at the shower tiles. Maybe if the water can't, the blood will be able to wash away his sins.
     When he came back without Soda, you didn't ask. You already knew. Everyone did. And there's something about war, about watching your best friend die beside you that changes you. Something about the sudden quickness, something about knowing it should have been you who died. There's something about knowing that he was the one everyone needed to come home, not you.
     And it destroys him.
     And it slowly destroys you, too.