Tired of Living

Steven Grant, public nuisance to some, clumsy and unreliable to others, but above all, your boyfriend…for now. Don’t get it wrong, Steven is a sweetheart, the sweetest even, but he’s inconsistent. Not just that he doesn’t text all the time, or doesn’t keep up the same energy and attitude with you inconsistent (that’s dealable, that’s every guy you’ve been with so far), no he literally disappears for days, weeks even, at a time. Not a word to you, his job doesn’t seem to notice, or when they do they don’t care all that much, it’s like Steven Grant just…poofs into thin air at least twice a month.

You’ve tried to get him to explain, for any reassurance so your head isn’t rife with thoughts of a secret family, a wife he’s hiding, something to justify it, but Steven acts like he was never gone to begin with. As though you imagined him seemingly going missing every time you guys find your footing again.

Which led you to today, you demanded he take you back to his flat, something he’s always insisted against after dates, and opting to stay with you instead.

“It’s quite a mess, you know.” He’d muttered as he slowly pushed open the door to his flat, and had he been anyone else but Steven maybe that would’ve been surprising, but you pretty much expected that from him at this point.

You both stepped inside, him a bit more fidgety than usual, but then again the usual was pretty damn fidgety anyways. You’d grown to love those little things about Steven, which is perhaps why instead of dumping him, like you planned, you delayed it even more.

Carefully, you stepped into the room, taking in the decor, if it could be called that. It’s more like his obsession with the history spilled into even this aspect of his life, walls of books, everywhere, above his bed, to the far right end, hell even the middle of the room was separated by a bookshelf, which perfectly framed the vibrant blue aquamarine in the middle of it, it was the most color in the space actually, so naturally you gravitated toward it, Steven mirroring your movements and landing on the opposite side of the tank.

“What’s its name?” You finally say, breaking the silence that felt like it was holding the both of you hostage, and Steven himself seemed relieved at that because he immediately piped up.

“Gus, he’s rather anomalous actually. He’s grown back that-” he gestured to your side, “-fin back a few days ago. Though that shouldn’t be possible, considering he was born that way.”

You almost respond, wanting to ask what exactly he means by that, but he presses his hand to the glass, the fish swimming up quite happily and blowing bubbles at him. Steven. You find yourself thinking that with him a lot, just his name, and his beautiful face popping in your head to follow.

“What about all of those, the statues and stuff.” You ask, moreso to keep from the drawn out silences again, but much to your delight Steven’s face lights up, right away he moves on from the fish tank and rounds to your side, grabbing your hand and pulling you both into the nook you presume he does most of his work in, because the book stacks are even messier than others. Papers skewed about, some with handwriting that could only be Steven’s with how borderline illegible it is, but somehow still clearly meant to be cursive. Steven.

“This…is where I do most of my work, all of my research, general inquiry and delving, it’s my little hobbit hole so-to-speak,” he starts, moving a stack out of the way as he pulls out the desk chair, “and of course, most of it revolves around egyptian mythology, as confusing and slightly convoluted as that can be.

You see her,” he asks as he picks up a small figurine, thought it’s more of a statement, “this is the goddess, Tefnut, who’s pretty much the goddess of water, in simple terms and-”

You don’t understand much after that actually, and while that may have to do with the fact that you know next to nothing about Egyptian mythology, it’s more likely because you’re distracted. He moves back and forth through the small space, his eyes alight as he went through the gods in the Ennead and their stories, though if he asked you to recite any of it back to him…well you’d be talking about different topics entirely.

You were far more interested in the way his messy dark hair flopped with every excited movement, or how his eyes flit between you and his work, making sure you were still listening, or how everytime he paused to catch his breath, his pupils dilated all over again at the sight of you.

It softened you, as much as someone who doesn’t really want to let go can be softened that is, but he is still inconsistent. You turned to the rest of the room, your eyes glossing over the bed, and then doubling back at the restraints on the support beams, oh.

Steven’s still rambling, though he kinda lost you the second he tried to explain the afterlife process, so you place a hand on his shoulder, gently, but pretty firmly guiding both of you over to his bed, pushing him down so he’s sat with you standing over him.

“Steven, I need you to be honest, very honest with me…is there someone else?” Actually, that’s not what you were going to say, but that question bubbled to the surface, and it just seemed much more important than…well if he was a part of an organized crime group.

He stared at you, but not so much at you, more through you, like he was paying attention to you, but listening to something else…except the room is quiet.

“Steven?” you repeat, hoping to snap him out or something.

“Y/N…” he starts, sighing as he takes his hands in his, handling you with the care you’ve grown to appreciate so much, like you’re one of his fragile artifacts, “I’m not seeing anyone but you…and I’m not interested in it either.”

Your brows furrow, as reassuring as that is, that explains nothing.

“Then explain-“ you pull your hands away, picking up the leg restraint nearby instead “-explain that. And the constant disappearing, I mean for goodness sake Steven whenever it feels like we’re doing good for longer than a week you just-you disappear!” Your voice raises at that last part, the built up frustration surfacing as you finally have the chance to question him.

Again, he stared up at you, through you, his mind elsewhere.

The two of you stay like that for several beats, in the silence, your mind racing while was his miles ahead, or behind, you truly can’t tell with this man.

Finally, he takes your hands back into his, gripping them like you’ll disappear the second he lets go, he sighs, closes his eyes, nods, shakes it, and nods again, before opening them.

“I sleep walk, that’s why I have those restraints. And I know, believe me I know how insane this is going to sound, but it’s dangerous, not just for me but for everyone else,” not once does he break eye contact with you, which is so unlike Steven who sputters when you hold his gaze a few seconds too long, “I go to sleep, and wake up miles from home, with no idea how I’ve found myself there, no clue what I did when I was ‘asleep’, just the knowing something is so so wrong.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a couple of beats before continuing, “I don’t- can’t trust myself Y/N. My life constantly feels like it’s falling apart around me, I spend days at a time trying to piece together what happened, how I could’ve gotten away from myself, the only constant in my life right now is..well you. And I’ve gone and mucked this up too.”

You’ve never seen Steven like this, so sure of what he’s saying, and this being the context that allows you to see this side is, well, frightening. He isn’t partaking in infidelity and half-truths, he’s dealing with whatever this insanity is. And it’s taking a toll on him, as sure as he is about what he’s saying, his brows are scrunched, trying to gauge your reaction, his hands, steady as they are, are sweating profusely at the moment, he’s even chewing the inside of his bottom lip.

You close your eyes, soaking everything in, and then sit beside him, never pulling your hands away.

“If the only thing I have to worry about is your body taking you against your will,” You start, your own nervousness seeping into your voice at your words, as if that’s not a wildly concerning statement to begin with, “then all I ask…is that you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow you.”

At that, Steven’s eyes widen, maybe in surprise that you’re not telling him to see a ward, or simply because that’s the last thing he expected to hear, it’s certainly the last thing you expected to say today.

“Y/N…I…that’s-“ his grip on your hand tightens even more, like a warning, but he certainly wasn’t warning you. “-so you still want to be with me?”

“Yes, Steven.”

“Sleepwalking, eccentricities and all?”

“Yes Steven.”

“Truly are you sure? I understand if you’re just being nic-“

“I’m absolutely certain Steven.”

“Even though I really am quite a mes-“

You shake your head pulling your hands away, and for a second his face falls, like that action alone was you saying no despite everything you’ve said , so you grab his face, pulling him in so your lips meet before he can spiel any more doubt. He tenses first, and then melts, letting his hands meet your wrists, holding you firm, yet again, like you’re bound to disappear if he lets go.

Luther’s wedding was chaotic, and you expected no less of it. There were a great many highlights to the night if you were being honest, but the one that took the cake had to be Ben and Five’s drunken rambles. Or at least that’s what you would’ve said had it not been for Ben’s insistence on sticking by your side and coaxing you to drink with him, for some reason.

“I already told you I’m too much a lightweight to just drink whenever I feel like it.” You repeated as you chose one of the newly vacant hotel rooms, Ben directly behind you.

“That’s unfortunate, but more for meee.” He tried to take another swig but you snatched the bottle out of his hand, groaning.

“You’ve clearly had far too much, come here,” You didn’t wait for his response as you pushed him into one of the two beds in the room. Much to your dismay, and his pleasure, he grabbed your arm and pulled you so that you were on top of him, knees split by his leg in between them.

Ben seemed all too amused by this, tilting his head with a sly grin as he stared at your face, examining it in a way that almost made you uncomfortable.

Finally, he spoke. “You’re pretty.”

You blinked, mouth opening to respond and closing again several times. That was until you realized his fingers were creeping to your hand that held the bottle, and you rolled your eyes.

“And, you’re drunk.”

You sat up, holding the bottle up to your head and downing it’s remains before tossing it to the side. “There, there’s nothing for you to get, now sleep.”

“Can you sleep with me?” He asked, an unfamiliar tone slipping into his voice. He even threw the blankets aside and made room for you by the window. Just as you were about to say no he gave you that look again, the same look he gave you before, and suddenly sleeping with him didn’t seem too bad.

So you slipped into the bed, pulling the blankets up and facing him, so you don’t have to face the fact the world is imploding right outside that window.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You don’t remember what happened after that, but waking up now you prayed to whatever deity that was listening it wasn’t anything bad. Because it sure as hell felt like it was something bad when you woke up to Ben’s bare chest against you, his arms circled fully around your hips and holding them in place, and perhaps the most alarming, neither of you were wearing pants.

“You fainted straight into my arms,” His voice was groggy and vibrated in the most annoying delightful way, “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

That didn’t sound right. But when you tried to remember what actually happened his fingers squeezed into your hips, slowly trailing down to your thigh and pulling your leg on top of his own hip.

Or maybe not. What did you do last night. “Would you mind…recounting for me?”

He chuckled, and it resounded right through your body.

“I don’t actually know, but one can only guess from these.” He pulled the blanket off, and looking closer you realized just how many hickeys were littered on his chest, his neck, not to mention the scratches.

You blinked, hard. Dear god did you fuck him? You wouldn’t be surprised, he was hot. But Jesus Christ. You’re never drinking again, if not for the fact that the world was ending soon then for the fact that you’d prefer to remember it if you slept with Ben again.

Though now that if was looking like when with the way you felt him harden between your legs, finger tracing circles on your thigh and lookin at you so…

You don’t know who leaned in first, but you’d practically latched onto each other. Mouths moving against each other desperately. His hips grinding upwards as he pressed himself into the wetness that pooled in your underwear. You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, the noise shocking your nearly as much as it did him.

Ben rolled the two of you over, shifting you onto his lap and keeping his hands planted on your hips as you kept grinding, his boxers growing damper with every movement.

“Fucking tease.”

“I dunno, you seem to enjoy it.” You retorted, staring down at him.

When Dustin ran after Eddie he’d told you to stay in the trailer, as if you would actually listen to him. As if you’d just sit there knowing Eddie was having a lapse in judgement at the worst time possible.

No. You ran right after him, after carefully making your way back into the upside down that is. Dustin’s leg was fucked up, and if you weren’t careful that would be both of you would have to help Eddie back on jacked up legs.

The bats were gone, and you couldn’t tell why until you ran closer, their bodies littering the ground as you drew near, and even worse flesh. Small chunks of it leading to the center of all of their corpses. That was when you saw them, saw Dustin holding him, weeping. You ran to them as fast as your feet could take you, almost collapsing when you got to them.

“I-I tried to…he…” Dustin started, stuttering and sniffling as he spoke. He didn’t need to say anything. There it was, Eddie’s body laid before you clear as day. You felt like a knife had been forced into your chest, like there simply wasn’t enough air for you to breathe as your throat closed. Everything was too loud and too quiet all at once, the world around you feeling unreal.

It had to be unreal. Eddie wasn’t dead. There was no way Eddie was dead. Because just a few hours ago he’d promised to take you with him when his band goes on tour, he promised to teach you how to play guitar and have you play alongside him. He swore up and down that when this was all over he’d try harder to graduate this year. Eddie simply wasn’t dead. Not him. Anyone but him. You leaned in close, pressing your forehead against his.

“Hey, quite joking Ed. You need to wake up, because I can’t do this without you.” Your heart pounded against your chest and your voice came out strained and unfamiliar to your own ears.

“You can’t just- you seriously aren’t- this…” You tried to speak, to say something that would make this nightmare end but words failed you. You closed your eyes as they started to water, as the tears started flowing because how on earth did Eddie expect you to do anything without him? You could barely go a day without talking to him, and now he was just gone.

Dustin’s hand brushed you back and you took a sharp inhale, remembering that he was there. That the world wasn’t over. That everything was still moving around you even if the light in the center of it all was gone. You didn’t want to go back to the real world, but you and Dustin couldn’t stay there. He needed his leg treated, and you needed an excuse to run from all of this.

“We have to go.” Your voice came out shaky, hands still squeezing Eddie’s face as Dustin held him.

“We can’t just…leave him. He deserves better.” Dustin sobbed, and you felt like the knife in your heart had been twisted, cutting deeper.

You pulled away from Eddie’s face did your best to compose your own cries,

“I can’t help you back and…” you trailed off. But Dustin seemed to understand what you meant, his own fingers squeezing Eddie’s.

“He told me to-to tell you that it was your turn in the spotlight. That he was passing his guitar onto you…”

With the end of life as you know it rapidly approaching, what better way to spend it than getting shitfaced with your favorite brother before, during, and after a wedding. Or better yet, your favorite brother and your dead brother’s doppelgänger who’s honestly a dick.

You were all upstairs, trying to play pool in your drunken states and being far too giggly for your own good.

“That’s another point for me-“ Klaus held up his pool cue with one hand as he dramatically bowed “-and better yet another shot.” You watched as he grabbed for his bottle, and realizing it was empty he threw it to the side.

“I’ll be back kids, don’t do anything I would do.”

With that he stumbled his way through the staircase, slowly but surely descending.

You walked over to where Ben was sitting, flopping down beside him with a sigh. “God I love him.”

Ben tensed beside you, eyes watching you carefully as you laid your head back against the cushions.

“I don’t get why, I mean sure you all grew up together but he’s so…”

“Mental?” You finished, laughing a bit. “It’s a part of his charm.”

“Nothing charming about that.” He grumbled, and you could feel him fold his arms beside you.

To that you glanced at him. “Everyone has their own charm, Ben. I mean take our Ben for example, he was-“

“Amazing, spectacular, superb, apparently superior to me in every way possible, which in itself is impossible.” The words spilled out of his mouth far too easily for them to not have been on his mind. You snorted, clearly drunk Ben was an oversharer. “I was going to say a dickhead, the sweetest most caring-“

Ben let out a loud exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake he couldn’t have been that great.”

“Oh but he was. He was all that and…” You trailed off, looking him in the face and realizing just how annoyed he really was. “Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

Ben’s eyes brows furrowed as he huffed. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of him, he’s dead. I’m not. It’s just…” He held his face in his hands now, breathing unevenly.

“It’s just…what?”

“Did you know we had you? Well, a different you, our own Y/N years ago.”

No, you didn’t know that. Is that why Sloane was so eager to befriend you from the get go? Or why the other sparrows had all looked at you that way when you first appeared, Jesus.

Ben shook his head and continued. “Well we did, and you’re so much like them, but at the same time you’re nothing like them. It’s scary, watching you with the umbrella’s and knowing that could’ve been us, could’ve been me next to you,” Finally, he looked up, and you could see his eyes tearing up. The way he watched you in both awe and grieving, you could see everything he’d been hiding for the last few days.

“I just miss you so much when you’re with them, so much that it hurts.” His fingers brushed your cheek shakily, like he didn’t know what to do, like he was scared of what he might do.

“Were we close?” You said almost breathlessly, watching as he stared at you, taking in every little feature of yours.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

And with that he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You could taste the alcohol in his breath but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care. Not when he was pulling you into him, holding you like you were going to disappear the second his grip slipped. Kissing you in a way that told you everything he felt, every emotion he’d left unsaid over the years, every feeling and sensation overwhelmed the two of you, but neither of you wanted to pull away.

It hurt. It hurt your heart as he grasped onto you desperately, hurt your head when you realized just how tangled you’d become with each other, you burned for each other.

When you finally pulled apart you didn’t pull away, and neither did he. You just sat in silence, terrified that the slightest of moves would make the other disappear and you’d be alone again.

“Holy shit.”

And just like that the two of your heads snapped to Klaus, standing beside the pool table and holding two more bottles, you pulled yourselves apart just as quickly as you’d settled into the position, you could still feel the goosebumps on your arms as you held them against yourself.