i think you’re what’s wrong with me
steve harrington x dustin’s older sister
Summary: After a rocky relationship, Steve ends it with you in the middle of a stupid high school party. You still love him, possibly more than anything, but the glance you get before he leaves you in your bedroom might be the last you get. A drunk mess, your little brother Dustin knows you better than anyone.
Warnings: breakup, alcohol use, lots of angst, kind of toxic relationship, major emotional breakdown.
It didn’t feel real at first, not when the words first left his mouth.
“Maybe we’re just not right for each other anymore.”
The two of you had been arguing about something or other, as you always were.
When two strong personalities like yours and Steve’s were put together, you could end up with disaster or a masterpiece, and in your case, you two switched between the options.
“What?”
You felt something large and heavy lodge itself in your throat, your skull suddenly on fire.
Music kept blasting from the speakers around you, drunk teenagers still dancing and talking as if your entire world wasn’t crumbling right in front of you.
You could see in Steve’s face that he didn’t mean it, you knew you could.
“We’re fighting in the middle of a fucking party, is this not an obvious sign to you that we’re not right together?” Steve’s voice trembled, but his words weren’t wrong.
Tears began to prick at your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away, determined not to cry in front of him.
“But- but that’s what we do, we- we fight. We fight and then we make up and then everything is perfect again.”
Your voice didn’t sound like your own, it sounded small and weak and wrong.
You watched Steve look away from you, and you didn’t need a mirror to know how hurt you probably looked in that moment.
“That’s not healthy, y/n.” His voice softened, and when he looked back at you, his eyes had too.
“But that’s- that’s us! I tell you when you’re being an arrogant son of a bitch and you tell me when I’m being a pain in the ass! That’s what we do, that’s how we work!” Your voice cracked on the last word, tears brimming over and you no longer cared that he was seeing it.
He didn’t answer, just bringing his hand up to place it gently on your cheek.
You instinctively leaned your face into it, your eyes half-closed.
“You’re drunk, y/n.” Steve’s voice carried through the music.
“I love you.” You said, your heart hammering against your ribs.
You were drunk, but the sentiment remained.
“It’s not right. We’re not right. We hurt each other and we make each other sad, I don’t want you to go through that anymore than I want to myself.”
You watched him through your blurring vision, your hands gripping the front of his shirt in desperation.
“Steve, please baby.” You whisper, the tears falling harder now.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?”
You felt hands leading you to the front door, two big, strong hands that you’d recognize no matter what.
“Steve.” You said his name again, like if you said it enough, he’d say it was all a prank and he still loved you.
You felt him push you into the passenger seat of his car, while he climbed into the drivers seat.
Just a couple hours ago, you were in these same seats, your lips connected and her fingers intertwined. You had been happy not so long ago, where did that go?
Your face felt incredibly hot, tears still falling as your forehead pressed against the cold window.
“Steve.” His name felt wrong, his name felt painful and sad and heavy, not like it should.
The drive was shorter than it should have been. You had silently wished it would be a forever drive, one that let Steve rethink his decision and tell you he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it.
Your eyes opened when you felt Steve pulling you out of the car, and you looked right at his face.
For just a moment, you could have sworn you saw it, tear stains on his cheeks.
You squinted, trying to see if they were really there.
As if sensing your intentions, Steve quickly looked away, half carrying you to your bedroom window.
“Hold on.” He whispered, sliding open your window.
He had done that so many times before, late nights where he missed you, ones that would lead to kisses in the dark and snuggles in your bed.
“Don’t leave me.” Your voice was hoarse, thick with tears that had finally stopped falling, ready to continue soon enough.
Steve looked at you, his eyes softening, and you knew he almost considered it.
“I have to leave, baby, you know that.” His voice was barely audible.
You felt the tears threatening to spill over again.
“I’m gonna lift you through the window, okay?”
His words felt too casual for the emotion you were feeling.
You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t help him either.
You felt him pick you up off the ground and set you on the windowsill. He picked up your legs and swung them inside.
You slid onto the floor, turning around to look at him again.
“Please.”
You couldn’t say anything else.
You couldn’t tell him how much you loved him, how the mere smell of him was enough to make you smile, how the time you first kissed was still the happiest you’d ever been, how you thought of him whenever you were apart from each other.
“Goodnight, y/n.”
“Steve.” Your voice sounded strained.
He slid the window down.
“Steve!” Your voice cracked, the tears spilling again, faster than before.
He turned around, walking back to his car.
It felt as though something was clawing out of your throat, you had never felt this awful before.
You were still on your knees, your hands going up to the windowsill as your head fell forward.
Sobs escaped your mouth, tearing through the otherwise silent night air.
You barely heard the knock on your bedroom door, only turning around when it swung open.
“Hey, I heard you crying, is everything- y/n?”
You saw your little brother, Dustin, and watched the way his face fell when he saw you.
“He’s gone, Dustin, he’s gone.” The words tumbled out of you between sobs, as you fell back into your windowsill, still sitting on the floor.
“Hey, hey it’s okay, I’m here.”
You felt his hand on your shoulder, and you let yourself fall backwards onto him.
“I messed it up, I messed it all up. I’m such an idiot, I made him leave.” You couldn’t stop yourself from saying these words, the thoughts getting jumbled up in the alcoholic mess in your brain.
“Y/n, you’re drunk, okay? You need to go to bed.” Dustin said quietly, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other attempting to push the hair out of your face.
You let him help you stand slowly, and guide you to your bed.
He slipped your heels off your feet, and covered you with your blankets.
Dustin made sure the blanket covered you all the way up to your chin, and he brushed your hair off your face.
He had turned to leave, but you quickly grabbed his wrist.
“Stay?” You whispered, your eyes barely open.
Dustin’s heart melted on the spot, as he watched his big sister fall apart.
He nodded instantly, smiling sadly at you.
“Always.”
He slipped under the covers next to you, looking at you now that you were face to face.
You had slept in these same positions about a hundred times, after every bad day and every nightmare.
Suddenly, you started to cry again. The tears falling silently, a sniffle slipping out too.
“Hey, don’t cry, you’re okay.” Dustin spoke softly, pulling his hand out from under the covers and gently wiping your face with his thumb, as you had done for him his whole life.
“I ruined it, I ruined everything. I couldn’t just… let it go. I had to argue, I had to push back. I had to make him mad, and now he’s gone and it’s all my fault.” Your voice came out all wobbly, making Dustin’s heart break for you.
“You two fight a lot, huh?” He asked gently.
You nodded.
“We fight and then we make up. That’s what always happens.”
Dustin shrugged slightly, “Maybe you’ll make up this time too.”
You shook your head immediately.
“He meant it. He meant every word, and he was right. He was right and I hate it.” Your voice shook so violently, tears falling faster.
Dustin shushed you tenderly, brushing your hair off your face again and holding your hand. Your interlinked fingers rested on the bed between your faces.
He had watched his sister go through the highs and lows of her relationship with Steve, he was even there when they first started falling in love.
They didn’t know it at the time, but Dustin did.
He knew as soon as Steve left the bus to beat up demodogs and you didn’t hesitate to follow him.
He knew when Steve dropped him off at the Snowball and he caught him staring at you through the gymnasium doors where you were volunteering.
He knew when he watched you carefully clean up Steve’s cuts and bruises from his time spent underground with the Russians.
He knew when you were sent a vision from Vecna and Steve had almost cried at the thought of losing you.
And now, as he held you in your bed, he knew it was still there. It was bruised, it was bent, but it was there.
But after all the times you’d cried watching the phone, asking why he wouldn’t call you after a fight, Dustin also knew that it wasn’t good for you, at least not now.
The fate of the world was too much for some relationships to bear.
He had watched you slip in and out of happiness in accordance to your relationship status with Steve.
He knew all these things, and so did you.
Sometimes you wondered what was wrong with you, why you would become so dependent and hyper focused on Steve.
The realization hit you all at once.
Steve is what’s wrong with me.
