continuing (x) .// @plastiicparasite // big brother steve
The world was spinning. No, not spinning; more like moving in tall, angry waves, leaving Luke swaying even thought he was standing still. The solid frame of his brother was like a tether, an anchor, keeping him upright, safe, out of harm’s way and out of the deep, dark seas. Everything hurt. Everything was too cold. Too warm. Too clammy. Too dry. His brain seemed to throb and grow, trying to leak out of his eyes and ears but at the same time he felt as though his skull was empty, dark and filled with bruised cobwebs, the spiders crawling out through the cracks in his jaw, scratching the back of his throat.
“’m sorry,” he mumbled, weak and quiet. Everything felt like it was unravelling… again. His brother knew what to do. His brother had his own life figured out, had everything you could ever want. A beautiful house. A beautiful wife. A wonderful dream job, writing successful books, turning more and more famous with each published work. Luke just wanted to be like him, so very badly. Twenty-five and a lost cause, going from house to house to rehab center, to street alley to bench to cardboard box. Twenty-five with nothing but stigma to his name and dirty looks when he was introduced as a Crain sibling in any context.
The house smelled of dinner, of red wine freshly poured and lit candles. A whiff of perfume soared through the air, too, when Leigh seemed to pass by, saying something that echoed in his hollow brain. It wasn’t meant for him, anyway. Was meant for Steve. She was kind to him too, Leigh, forgave him for a lot, opened her home and her arms to him and each time he hurt her just the same as he had any other of his family members.
Oh, if mom could see him now… how she would have cried and cried and cried.
Sniffling, nodding, Luke barely pushed himself off of Steve to look around with bloodshot eyes, wet, thick tears welling and flowing down his dirty face. Home was no where, yet he wanted to go there so badly. What did that say about him, he feared? Did he just want to… not be anywhere? Was that home, the darkness? “I’m– I’m sorry I c-come here and ruin your night,” he half-brokenly sobbed, dragging the tears away with the well-worn hoodie sleeve. He can’t stand to look his brother in the eye, though… too hard. The eye in the wooden floor is a better place to look.
“I don’t wanna be–, I-I can leave Steve I promise it’s okay if– if you don’t want me here-”
Steve barely registered Leigh’s words, simply nodding and peering over Luke’s shoulder to share a look with her that indicated she understood. They had been through this before. How many times had Luke come knocking, wounded, with his tail between his legs and begging for scraps?
Leigh was Steve’s rock. The woman had been with him through thick and thin and had never shied away from a new challenge. When they were fresh graduates, no money to be heard of, they had worked through the hardships together. Steve could not imagine himself surviving half of the shit in his life without her guidance, wise beyond her years and always bringing with her a poised and composed sense of calm. Steve needed that support now with Luke’s return. These two, Leigh and Luke, were constant forces of chaos and order in his life. (Funnily enough, he needed them both.)
Steve’s arms fell to his sides as Luke pushed himself away. It gave him the time to assess his brother. That was something the Crain boys had always been good at: details. He scrutinized Luke now. Dirty fingernails, eyes red from crying, and smelling distinctly of the streets. He must have been out for a few days, and truly OUT. A twinge of anger ran through Steve at this realization. Luke had only sought help after his supply had run dry.
But that was how it always went and Steve would continue to play into it again and again and again—
“You can stay, but I swear to God – if you have any shit leftover, you toss it now. Kits, needles, I don’t care. It goes in the trash. I don’t want Leigh to be around whatever you’ve dragged in, all right?” He planted a firm hand on Luke’s shoulder, steering him towards the bathroom. “Clean up and I’ll find you something to wear. You feel well enough to do that?”
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