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(He's) Just a Phase — Part 2

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3K

March 1989

'I can't do this anymore!'

Steve flinched at the loudness in Eddie's voice. He looked at him, taking in the frown lines on his face and how his eyes nearly glowed in anger.

He had expected this. He had been waiting for the ball to drop eventually. There had been signs over the past month that he had picked up. It was small things that Steve was sure Eddie didn't notice he was doing.

First, it was just something small. It could have always been superficial to Eddie, but to Steve, it had always been something bigger, something more. It was a habit that Eddie had always had, and Steve wasn't sure Eddie knew he had done it.

Steve worked nights most of the time, meaning his schedule was the opposite of Eddie's. It had been hard, but they had made it work. They made sure they received the same days off so that they could spend time with each other. On the long days, Eddie would leave the hall light on when he went to bed before Steve got home.

It again wasn't much, but it was something.

When Steve came home, and the light wasn't on, Steve felt his chest tighten. Something was wrong. He did something wrong. Of course, against his better judgment and not openly communicating with Eddie, Steve kept his mouth closed and moved on.

The next tell was more significant. It gave an indication that Eddie knew what he was doing. It wasn't as superficial because they made sure of it together.

Eddie scheduled his band practice on their day off -- the day they used for date night. But, in true Steve fashion, he kept his mouth shut. So it didn't matter if Steve laid in bed all day, crying to Robin, trying to figure out what he did.

The other things fell into place after that, like ducks in a row, until he ended up facing Eddie's frustration.

'I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled.

Eddie gritted his teeth. 'And what are you sorry for, Steve? Please enlighten me!'

Steve wasn't sure. 'I, uh,' he licked his lips, gaze flickering to anywhere but Eddie's face.

'You don't know!' Eddie snapped.

Steve pursed his lips shut. 'No,' he said.

'That's the problem. You're so absorbed in your own head to not even notice what you're doing!' Eddie laughed. It was a bitter sound, and Steve felt a spear stab through his heart.

'I'm not,' Steve argued weakly. 'I thought we were fine.'

'You thought wrong,' Eddie exclaimed. 'I'm miserable, Steve. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and realize that world isn't going to eat you alive.'

'What is this about?' Steve asked, his voice rising. He needed clarification. He needed things spelled out for him. He was terrible at reading between the lines, even if he knew he should be better at it.

'It's about you not wanting to be seen with me,' Eddie snapped. 'Or you don't want anyone to know about us. You either tell people were friends or that were fucking roommates. Dustin doesn't even know we're together!'

Steve flinched. 'That's not true,' he said. 'You know I love you-'

'You don't show it very well,' Eddie cut him off.

'Don't give me that!' Steve said, frowning. 'I didn't have my whole life to figure out I was bisexual! I'm sorry that I'm not ready to come out!'

'What do you have to lose, Steve?' Eddie hissed. 'You don't have anyone who would look at you differently! Your parents couldn't give a fuck about you, and everyone else would love you no matter what! What's so fucking scary, Steve? Why is it so hard to let people close to us know?'

Steve swallowed, tears stinging his eyes. Hurt flooded his system. It was a low blow on Eddie's part, mentioning his parents. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong. His parents didn't care about him. They especially didn't care about Steve after discovering all the 'scandalous' things that Steve was involved with. 'I just, um. I'm not ready, Eddie. I don't know what else you want me to say.'

Eddie laughed, 'Fuck, I don't know. That you'll try? That you'll tell at least Dustin! It's like you are ashamed to be with me!'

He was silent.

Eddie wasn't far from the truth.

Steve was ashamed but never of Eddie. There wasn't a fiber in Steve's bones that could ever be ashamed of Eddie. Steve was only ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he was, but every time Steve looked in the mirror, he felt disgusted with himself. He felt as if God would strike him down at any given moment for just enjoying kissing a man.

Nothing had to do with Eddie. Everything just had to do with Steve.

'Not everything has to deal with you, Eddie,' Steve said, voice tense. 'Nothing I've done about hiding my sexuality has to deal with you. I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll ever be ready!'

Eddie stared at Steve, expression unchanging. 'I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Steve felt his stomach drop. 'What does that mean?'

'It means what it means. I'm not going to sit here unhappy. I can't keep waiting for you to be ready,' Eddie said.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Steve asked, his voice shaking.

'I guess I am,' Eddie said.

'But,' Steve began, stumbling over the singular word.

Eddie shook his head. 'It's done. We're done.'

Steve bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at his lap, unmoving. What would he do, promise to try to get him to stay? He wanted to beg him to stay, but Steve knew he shouldn't. Not when any promises he made wouldn't be kept.

'Fucking hell, you have nothing to say, do you?' Eddie shook his head. 'I'm leaving. I'll be back this weekend to get my shit.'

Steve could only watch him walk out of the door.

He didn't move from the spot and wasn't sure how long he had sat there, staring blankly at the don't, trying to understand what had happened.

This wasn't like Nancy.

It was worse.

Because before, Steve had felt something — rage, disappointment, sadness. Right now, at this moment, felt hollow, as if a part of him had been removed.

It was when Eddie was actually gone that Steve called Robin. She moved to Dallas after graduation, and Steve only saw her two weeks out of the year. But, she had stayed Steve’s rock, and Steve in return her’s.

The dial tone echoed in his ear as he leaned against the doorway, staring into his bedroom. Besides the trillion tiny holes left over by the thumbtacks holding Eddie’s countless posters, the walls were empty. The bed had only two pillows, both plaid and ugly, a reminder that Eddie had been the one to hoard an enormous amount of pillows — a reminder that Steve’s favorite pillow had belonged to Eddie.

‘Buckley speaking,’ Robin’s voice filled the silence.

Steve’s lips twitched. ‘Hey, Birdie,’ he greeted.

‘Dingus!’ she cheered. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’

Steve pursed his lips, 'Yeah, sorry. It's been a rough week.'

‘Eddie picking up shifts again?’ she asked.

‘Uh, um,’ Steve rubbed his lips together, fighting the tears and tightness in his chest. ‘No,’ he managed to gasp out.

Robin was silent momentarily before her soft voice echoed on the receiver. ‘Stevie, what’s wrong?’

Steve found himself unwinding at the seams at the simple question, a loud, ugly sob choking out of him. ‘He’s gone, Robin. He left!’ he cried, the words rushed out and barely audible.

‘What? What do you mean he left?’ Robin exclaimed loudly in the line.

'We broke up,' Steve cried, his chest heaving as he cried harder. 'I fucked up, Robbie. It's all my fault he's gone!'

'Steve, honey, I need you to try and breathe for me. Focus on something and take a few deep breaths for me. I can't understand you writing now,' Robin instructed on the phone.

He did as she said. He focused on the black alarm clock on his bedside table, staring at the red glowing numbers. He took a deep breath, hiccupping as he breathed out. He did that for a few minutes.

'Better?' Robin asked.

'Mhm,' Steve vocalized. 'Sorry.'

'Babe, don't apologize,' she said. 'Now what happened?'

Steve closed his eyes, gripping the phone cord and using the wire to ground him. 'Eddie and I broke up a few days ago, maybe almost a week ago. Well, he broke up with me,' he mumbled, voice shaky.

'I thought you were good; you guys were happy,' Robin said.

Steve laughed, his voice bitter, 'Yeah, me too. Apparently not.'

'Do you know if he told you why?'

'I fucked up,' Steve said simply, thinking over the words that Eddie told him just a week ago. 'I didn't want to tell anyone we're together because I'm not ready. I've been pulling away, I guess. I don't know. He's upset that I don't want the relationship because I don't want people to know.'

Robin was quiet, 'Do, or well, did you want people to know?'

'Of course, I do, Birdie,' he said, choking on her nickname. 'I would scream that I love him from the top of a mountain for the whole world to hear, but I just-'

'You aren't ready yet,' Robin said.

'I'm not ready.'

Robin let out a soft sigh. ‘Do you need me to fly to Indianapolis?’ she asked.

Steve immediately shot her down, 'You have classes and work, Birdie. I can deal with this on my own. There's not like there's much to deal with.'

'We both know how you can get when you get lost in your head,' Robin said. 'And I'm going to be honest, I understand where Eddie's coming from. I know it's hard to hide something important from those who matter, but it's not fair to you, either. You can't rush someone to just come out. He should know that it's a terrifying feeling.'

Steve hummed. ‘I guess so,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish I could go back in time and be ready or click a fast-forward button.’

'We'll you can't,' Robin said. 'Don't overthink too much, Stevie. You two broke up, and you never know; in a month, you might end up back together.'

Steve pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he and Eddie fought. It was different. They would take a few hours away from each other and then talk about it before the night ended. The worst fight ended with Eddie staying the night at Gareth's, but he came home, and they had sorted it out.

Eddie was gone this time. There wasn't a trace of him left in the apartment.

‘Do you think he would have stayed if I had told Dustin?’ Steve asked.

‘Maybe,’ Robin said. ‘But how long would that satisfy Eddie until he wanted more people to know?’

Steve sighed, moving to rub the wetness from his under his eyes. 'I don't know,' he whispered. 'Maybe this isn't bad,' Steve mumbled.

'What's that mean?'

'Maybe I need to work on myself. I'm not like you or Eddie. I haven't gone out much. I haven't really learned anything,' he said. He picked at the end of the Corroded Coffin shirt that he still has. It was worn and full of holes. Eddie had made it two years ago when they had moved to Indianapolis in celebration of getting a gig at a local bar. 'I haven't been open to learning new things. Maybe I should just focus on myself,' he whispered. 'Maybe I hadn't been ready for a relationship with Eddie, and I just jumped into it.'

'I think figuring yourself out would be a good thing,' Robin said. 'And don't doubt rushing into your relationship. You and Eddie would love each other, even if a chapter of your relationship ended.'

'So poetic,' Steve joked weakly.

'I'm minoring in English. I need to be,' Robin jabbed back. 'But seriously, Steve, don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. It'll be better if you find a new routine and get used to being alone. Then start broadening your horizons.'

Steve hummed, 'That'll be a start.'

'Maybe get a pet!' Robin suggested. 'You like animals.'

'To an extent,' Steve sighed.

'Oh, maybe you could call Owens,' Robin said, voice brightening. 'You still have his card, don't you?'

Steve glanced at the drawer by the fridge, 'Yeah, of course, I do. So why would I need to call Owens?'

'To, well, I don't know, actually do what he suggested you did a few years ago,' Robin said as if Steve knew what she was talking about.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Steve asked. 'You know I have the memory of a goldfish.'

'Ugh,' Robin groaned. 'You're helpless,' she said. 'Owens suggested that you start seeing a therapist for your PTSD, which I'm assuming you never did.'

Steve shook his head, 'No. Eddie did, though.'

'Either way, he also suggested you get a service animal. They help, you know. They can clock you when you're on the edge of having an attack. Or you can get one for your migraines. Do they have service dogs for migraines? You should be able to ask Owens. You still have them frequently, right? What do you think about your eyesight? Are you still having trouble seeing it? Or it's the strain you put on your eyes that causes migraines. You may need glasses, Dingus,' Robin rambled.

Steve rolled his eyes, 'You're rambling again, Birdie.'

'Sorry,' she said automatically. 'So?'

'So, what?'

'Dear Christ,' Robin scoffed. 'Are you going to talk to Owens or not?'

Steve frowned, 'I probably should.'

'So call him. Start fixing yourself because a knight and shining armor can't help you,' she said. 'Eddie couldn't help you. I can't help you. You have to do this on your own,' she added. 'Of course, you can like to talk to be, but you have to hold yourself accountable and all that jazz.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'I'll call Owens.'

'Good!' Robin said. 'My sweet child,' she faked sniffing over the phone, 'growing up into a responsible young man.'

'Dear lord,' Steve laughed. 'Alright, Mom. I have to go. I have work in an hour and apparently have to call Owens.'

'Steve,' Robin said, voice serious.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' she said. 'You'll get through this.'

'Love you too,' he said softly. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, Dingus.'

'Do you think you would have ever come if your previous partner had never broken up?' Doctor Newman asked gaze focused on Steve as her pen was settled against the clipboard, prepared to write at a moment's notice.

Steve eyed the pen warily, feeling uncomfortable. Therapy was part of what Owens offered him to help treat his PTSD. While Steve didn't want to sit and be interrogated, he was doing this for himself (and Robin; he didn't want to disappoint her).

'Probably not,' Steve said, honesty laced in his voice.

He doubted it would have ever been a thought on his mind if he and Eddie were still together. Steve would have internalized everything like he had always done. Knowing that thought, Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance to change from who he was or the shell of who he thought he was.

'Why do you think you wouldn't have?' the woman asked.

Steve moved his gaze to the clock, staring at the second hand, watching as it made its way around, counting down the seconds of the minute. 'I wouldn't have realized that there was a problem. I probably would have just done what I did before, internalize everything.'

'I see. Did you need to internalize your feelings because you might have thought they made you less of a person?'

He tensed and shifted uncomfortably. 'Maybe. I don't know. I don't think my feelings are all that important. Like, I, uh, I don't know, I just think there's no need to make a big deal of them.'

Doctor Newman glanced down at her clipboard, writing something down. 'Hm.' She looked up at Steve, tapping her pen gently against the board. 'Well, you're feelings are important, and it's always okay to prioritize your feelings, even if you think that makes you selfish. Being selfish is alright, especially when your mental health will thank you. Sometimes we all need a break, and sometimes we all need to just sit somewhere and feel.'

Steve nodded, taking in her words. 'I get that, I do, but I grew up in a house where feelings were something you put on the back burner. Then with the event from '83 to '86, feelings seemed irrelevant when people around me were hurting worse, who deserved and needed the attention or care.'

'So, despite the trauma that had fallen on you, you believed it to be small compared to those around you?'

'I mean, yeah?' Steve said, confused. 'The kids were going through so much. They needed someone to lean on, to be cool and collected. They needed someone safe. That was me. It had to be me. The adults and the others were all trying to sort through their own issues, and mine seemed so small in comparison.'

'But they weren't,' Doctor Newman said. 'All your problems? They are just as important as everyone else's. You can't compare your trauma to someone else's because everyone experiences trauma differently.' She picked a vanilla folder off the table, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. 'Doctor Owens sent me your file,' she said. 'And I have to say that you have gone through a good bit of trauma, specifically with Starcourt.'

Steve licked his lips, mentally wincing at the thought of Starcourt. 'I guess.'

'While the Upside Down -- that's what you called it, correct?' Doctor Newman asked.

He nodded, 'The kids called it that. Something about a rat on a rope or something.'

She nodded, 'Alright. So while the Upside Down and the Russians greatly affected you, I think your trauma might have started earlier. Would you be comfortable telling me about your relationship with your parents?'

Steve glanced at the clock, frowning that not more than ten minutes had passed. He coughed, adjusting in his seat. 'There's not much to say,' he said. 'They weren't around a lot.'

'That's a big vague,' she wrote on her clipboard again. 'What were they like when you were a child, before they started becoming less of a fixture in your life? What were they like when they were home? What about now? What's your relationship like now?'

Steve lifted his hand to his mouth, nibbling on the nail of his thumb. His parents weren't something he wanted to talk about.

'This is a safe space,' Doctor Newman said. 'If you aren't ready to talk about your parents, we don't have to. Not until you're ready.'

'And if I'm not ready?'

'Then you aren't,' she said. 'We have all the time in the world, but I think some of your complications stem from your parents, and I can't help you without you opening up about your childhood. So, we'll return here each week until you're ready to face it.'

‘You make it sound easy,’ he laughed.

‘It’s not,’ Doctor Newman corrected. ‘Sharing something personal, especially when it's difficult to talk about, is far from easy. We don't know each other well, and I assume that even if you were more familiar with me, you still wouldn't find it easy to share your experience with me, and that is okay.’

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn't say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. He licked his lips, glancing back up at the clock, then to his hands, then to Doctor Newman.

‘Uh, my parents,’ he started, before pausing, face pinching together.

‘Take your time,’ Doctor Newman said.

Steve took a deep breath, slouching deep into the chair. ‘Well, I think it started back in ‘76, after I turned 10,’ he began.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading! I wasn't planning on doing a flash-back chapter, but I might throw them in between present chapters just to give context to what led up to Steve doing what he's doing. Also, if you've noticed, the break-up isn't a super bad one (in the context of why they could have broken up.) I wasn't going to have cheating or anything, but rather something that could be fixed, because I want a happy ending for my boys. Of course, it's worse in Steve's eyes because he just blames himself for stuff. IDK, I thought of doing something worse, but I felt that might be too much.

Also, if you aren't fond of reading fics on Tumblr and prefer the Ao3 formatting, the link to the fic is HERE. Tumblr sees all updates first, and there's a 1-4 hour delay of transfer posting to Ao3. I go through and edit everything. Tumblr is like the RAW/Uncut version, so to speak.

Remember that if you want to be added to the tag list to leave a comment below or send me a DM!

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries

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