Yuu is Tired
So idk what this is but I just had an idea for a drabble yk?? A bit angst. Yuu snaps and is GN and is on meds and stuff. I'm get back to reqs afterwards so enjoy
This is also kinda backstory for one of Juatclems reqs I'm working on and potential mean Yuu lore??? Anyways @blushing-concubus since u liked RSA Yuu
The Housewardens along with their vices all sit in Crowley’s office for an annual meeting. By some miracle, Malleus was there, probably because Lilia dragged them, however. As everyone settled in, Crowley took his seat, ready to start the session. “Alright, everyone so today-“
A knock at the door interrupts all of them, “I’m here headmaster, coming in.” You opened the door and visibly stiffened in surprise at everyone there, before giving Kalim a friendly wave back. Your eyes locked with Malleus for a moment, surprised to see your friend here, but a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “Mx. Yuu, what are you doing here?” Your small smile dropped to confusion. “Did you forget, Headmaster Crowley? You said today you were available to talk to me… You know… About my situation…”
Leona sighed, just wanting to get this meeting over with, he hated prolonging these boring discussions, even more since Malleus was here. Riddle also huffed, such poor planning is making everyone waste their time. Trey put a hand on Riddle's shoulder to calm him. Vil wore the smallest scowl, glancing at the papers in your hand. Crowley looked around at the members there before clearing his throat.
“Ah… Aahhh yes, I totally remember! It was about your way home, yes? Terribly sorry Mx.Yuu but we are having a meeting right now, can’t this wait later.” You paused. Don't get upset. Don't get mad. “Well… I am also a prefect. Maybe I can join in until the meeting ends?” “Yuu, I’m afraid your dorm doesn’t have any other students, this meeting is for actual housewardens.”
Your heart sank at that. Putting off everything yet again. “Well can I just ask you the one question I have? It’ll be quick I swear!” “Mx.Yuu. I am going to have to ask you to leave.” “Right…” You sounded dazed for a moment.
You’ve been trying to have this conversation with him for a full year now. A year has passed with no information regarding your situation. And there has been no support for you as a foreign student both mentally and academically. You've spent a year here in total darkness with no support. “Sorry but uh… I’m not leaving until we discuss this.” “Pardon?”
"I mean…” You refused to bite your tongue now. “It’s not like you would have considered anything they say anyways. You would just drop all your work on me again like you usually do after threatening my basic right to food.” Besides Ruggie choking back snort, the room went deathly silent. “Mx. Yuu…”
“No. None of that. If I dont bring this up now, it’ll never happen.” Your voice was stuttery and a bit wobbly. “I-I I mean- I’ve been trying to talk to you about my situation for a year now and just- every time it gets dismissed or something. I can’t even talk about my problems or get help with my stay here.” Azul and Jade perked up at this, cogs spinning in their mind to create the perfect contract.
“Like, for example, I am always laughed at or humiliated for asking basic questions. I’m new this this entire world and yet everyone expects me to know everything! People are always upset when I dont know of some obscure wizard from a few hundred years ago or old trends that were popular.”
Crowley sighed, making your blood boil. Your voice sped up, used to being cut off. “It’s really impacting my grade and there's no support for students with similar problems.” Crowley interrupted, “It sounds like you just need to study harder.” You didn't hide your irritated expression. “I did! I have been! I’ve been trying my absolute best but I don’t have a phone and the library doesn’t have anything beginner friendly! I-I mean—``''There are plenty of books in the library and teachers to help, you have no excuses.”
Your voice trembled, a year's worth of frustration building up, finally coming out. “Okay then, tell me who Nikola Tesla is! Explain to me what Thomas Edison did! If you don't know them surely you must know of Julius Caesar or Cleopatra right?! You see? It's not that easy! And no matter the explanation I give you, you would still need to know more about my world to fully understand anything! And not only that but Grims grades can impact mine? It's not fair!”
You were breathing heavily and you seemed panicked. Crowley tensed up, trying to diffuse the situation. Trey and Riddle both cringed, this wasn’t going to be good. “No, no. Listen to me. I know nothing of this world that I was dragged into! On top of that I have no basic necessities— I barely got my own toothbrush a month ago— and I dont have the medications I need to be mentally okay even though I’ve been requesting them for over a year now! I-I just! ... On top of all of this I need to worry about food and do your job for you. I-it’s just not fair. It’s all taken a toll on my mental health and I just want to go home.”
You locked your eyes with Crowley “Please for the sake of my mental health tell me you have found something. Anything. I need to go home. I need my medication! I can’t be here anymore, I can't take it- I'm scared. I'm scared to even be alone with myself now. I see no way out besides…” You choked back a sob. “Please. Please tell me something. Anything. I can't take it anymore. The stares. the judgement. It's so… suffocating...”
Everyone turned towards Crowley, giving him a few judgemental and wide-eyed stares. Crowley cleared his throat “Mx. Yuu… Finding you a way home is going to take a while. We still don't know what dimension you even—``''Bullshit!” You snapped, glaring at him.
“Bullshit! I had visions about coming here before I did and you were there. Hell, I've been having visions and hearing voices and seeing things since my time here. I don't know if I've officially lost it or what, but…” You paused, to take in a breath. “I mean- You think I managed to deal with all these blots by myself? Don’t get me started on how you expect me to somehow be okay with them after everything too, I have fucking scars on my body that no magic can fucking heal, and you expect me to act like everythings okay?” The housewardens and a certain Vice-Housewarden looked away, guilt building up inside when they watched you pull up a sleeve to show your damaged arm.
“Do you not hear how insane it sounds— And-and-and— you guys don't even have a therapist here to talk to! Fuck, it seems I’m the schools only therapist having to deal with everyones problems and of course no ones there for me because why would they be!” Your voice was getting louder. “I’ve been predicting everything so far! I've been the one having to just… deal with all of this, all while being hungry! It's not fair!”
You gripped the sleeves of your oversized and dusty uniform. “And I know you have to know something from what I’ve seen. I've reached out to RSA!” Rook’s eyes lock with yours for a moment and you swear you see his expression seem sad for once in all the time you’ve known him. You feel everyones staring at you. Some angry, some guilty, some sympathetic. You can especially feel the shock, most notably from your horned friend along with the floating tablet now on mute.
“RSA, says they know shit about interdimensional magic. I've told them about my situation and they actually offered to take me in and help! Fucking Chenya even said they offer help for foreign students! I don’t know if your just that incompetent or just scheming Headmage, but I am not leaving until you sign these transfer papers. And you are just to transfer me, not Grim. I am still pissed that you dropped him on me and consider us half a student!” Your breaths steadied as you calm yourself.
“I am done, Crowley. I am leaving, and you are going to approve of it.” You stared into the yellow orbs that peaked from behind his mask. Your voice cracked. “Please.” You can't imagine how they would’ve reacted to you foreseeing the future long before you came here. Where NRC is in ruins and the housewardens had to fight a very familiar looking cat…
You don't care if they called you selfish. You e been selfless your entire time here and that got you nowhere. So maybe you have to be selfish...
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It starts slowly at first.
It’s not as if he realizes something is wrong and just chooses not to say something. It’s more that he’s just so exhausted all the time.
And it makes sense, kind of. He’s working forty hours a week at Family Video, playing full-time chauffeur for the kids, helping Max’s mom get her to physical therapy appointments, spending time with Robin and carving out alone time with Eddie. He’s just trying to keep up with life, and getting older, and he’s tired.
It’s not even the weird thoughts that clue him in. He’s always had them, to some degree, so they don’t seem that out of the ordinary. Maybe they’re a bit more frequent than usual, but they’re definitely not new.
When he thinks idly about pressing his hand to the burner on the stove, he figures it’s the nightmares and lack of sleep making him a little bit loopy. When he gets a sudden urge to smash something in his hands just to feel it break, that’s the old anger issues. He’s working on that, but Eddie assures him that it’s normal to sometimes be angry even when it doesn’t seem like he should be. What’s important is that he doesn’t actually want to break and tear.
When, one day, Dustin is being even more insufferable than usual, he thinks about shaking him until he shuts his smug little mouth. And then he feels bad and gets him ice cream as a silent apology. But then there’s the weird thoughts, the ones that don’t really make any sense to him. The ones that say ‘what would happen if I set my clothes on fire. If I drove off this bridge. If I walked into traffic?’ He knows the answers to those questions, obviously. He doesn’t need to do a test to find out. It’s silly, and strange, and he shakes it off.
It’s only after his migraines start to become a chronic problem that he really starts to worry. They go from one or two debilitating days every other month to so bad that there are days he can’t leave his bed. Days where the pain is so bad he throws up, where Eddie murmuring to him in his quietest voice that he has to eat just a few bites makes him sob. Where opening his eyes at all makes him feel like Nancy just shot him in the brain with her sawed-off.
And after those horrible migraine days, he has the hangover days. The ones where he’s exhausted and his head aches with the phantom pain of remembering how badly the migraine hurt. Where his teeth ache from the tension in his head, and all he wants to do is snuggle with Eddie and listen to him breathe.
He goes to the doctor, and gets told there’s not much they can do. A script for a narcotic to kill the pain and relax his muscles, as needed. Basically just enough to allow him to sleep through the worst of it, rather than lie in bed wishing for death.
Because that’s the thing, the narcotics help with the migraines, but the wishing for death doesn’t go away. It’s not as dramatic as it sounds, really. He’s not dressing in black and hanging out in cemeteries like the goth kids. But sometimes he does stop and wonder if it’s all worth it. If it wouldn’t be better, easier, to just go to sleep and not wake up.
It feels a little silly, after everything he’s done to survive. Ungrateful even, because there are so many people that didn’t. But the fact of the matter is, he’s got a dead-end job that he hates, that doesn’t pay him enough money to make a life out of, no real skills outside of getting up after being beaten half to death, and he spends half his days immobilized in a bed. So what is he even really doing with his life anyway?
He knows everyone would be upset if he told them that. Robin would be horrified and probably guilty, for whatever reason. Eddie—who genuinely believes there’s no situation he can’t eventually talk himself out of—would probably take it personally and try to argue with him about it.
Dustin would…god, who even knows? Yell at him? Tell him he’s being stupid and selfish? He’d be right, Steve knows that. And it’s not as if he actually wants to kill himself or anything. He’s not writing sad poetry in his journal and stocking up on razor blades. He just sometimes thinks about how easy it would be to no longer be living.
There’s no point in worrying anybody, so he doesn’t mention it. He’s dealing with it on his own. When he spends an evening watching movies with his friends, or wakes up with Eddie in his arms, he remembers what it is about life that he likes. Being a little sad sometimes is normal, and he would never take the easy way out. He’s not a coward.
He doesn’t really know how he got from there to sitting on the edge of the quarry drop off. He really doesn’t. It had been a nice day. He’d gone to work and laughed with Robin. He’d had a low key date with Eddie at Hawkin’s only Italian restaurant, and they’d gone home and fallen into bed together.
And then Eddie had fallen asleep half on top of him, and Steve had lied awake. He’d lied awake and thought about where his life was going. About Eddie, and how much he loved him, and the terrifying uncertainty that Eddie might not feel as much. He knows it’s unfair; Eddie says that he loves him, and he should believe him. But also he’s been given love in the past, and told it was never real, so…sometimes it’s hard.
He’d laid there for what felt like hours trying to fall asleep while his mind dissected everything he’d ever done and every relationship he’d ever had. He’d laid there thinking about how useless and pointless it all felt, how useless and pointless he was, until Eddie had rolled off him in his sleep, curling on his side with his back to Steve.
It was so stupid. Eddie was asleep, snoring away in a dreaming bliss, but it felt like a rejection. A sign from the universe that he truly was unloved, unneeded. He’d already worked himself into such a deep hole that it was hard to think logically.
So he’d gotten out of bed and gone out to the car without even putting on shoes and he’d started to drive. He had no destination in mind. He just felt deep in his gut that he had to go, so he did. And he drove around Hawkins, hitting the city limits three times before his gas tank got low.
Then, he’d turned toward home and somehow he found himself there.
And here he sat, for a couple of hours. It was late fall, and cold, but he couldn’t be bothered to go dig the emergency blanket out of his trunk. He just huddled his arms closed and sat there, staring down into the darkness below him.
He couldn’t see the drop in the darkness, but he knew it was big. Definitely big enough that he wouldn’t survive it. Part of him shuddered in fear at the very idea. His guts twisted and turned with unease at how close he was to certain death. He felt an aching kind of nausea and a nagging feeling to get away. To move back to safety.
But he also felt just a little bit of longing. It would be so easy to fall. Just…lean his weight forward, let gravity take over. He’s pretty sure it would be quick. Not necessarily painless, but he’s used to pain.
Eddie would be so upset. So would Robin, and Dustin and Lucas and maybe even Max. But they’d move on, eventually. They’d go on to their futures where they’d be so amazing and people would love them so much. He can be a little selfish, can’t he? And maybe it's selfish of them to want him to keep going when he’s so damn tired.
Maybe it's unreasonable for them to expect him to keep living just because they want him around.
He ponders that for a moment, until the familiar loud roar of Eddie’s van shatters the quiet, and headlights cut through the darkness. His eyes ache, but he doesn’t close them. He just uses the opportunity to get a good look at how far down the quarry goes. His stomach lurches again.
“Baby?”
Eddie doesn’t turn the van off, he just stumbles out of it, his big eyes looking even bigger somehow, what with how worried his face is.
“How’d you know where to find me?” Steve asks, genuinely interested. It’s not as if the quarry is a usual haunt.
“El,” Eddie says. “I’m sorry I asked her to spy on you, but I woke up and you were gone and there was no note and I just…I had this gut feeling that something was wrong. So I thought it was better to beg for forgiveness.”
“Huh,” Steve says. That makes sense. There’s no hiding from a girl who’s practically omniscient. Not that he’s trying to hide.
“You want to tell me why you’re here?” Eddie asks, taking a few steps forward.
Steve wonders if it’s because of his own fear of heights, or because he’s afraid of what Steve might do. But there’s no need to be afraid. He would never make Eddie watch.
“Thinking about how easy it would be to fall,” he admits, because part of him is aware that he does need some kind of help. This thinking is far past normal.
Eddie makes a wounded noise, like Steve just sucker punched him.
“Baby, will you move away from the edge? Please?”
Steve considers that for a long moment. He can feel the tension in the air between them, and there’s no reason to continue sitting there if he’s not actually going to do anything.
So he stands up, and Eddie reaches out in a panic, as if trying to grab him before he jumps, but he’s too far away. Steve moves toward him, hands up to show that he’s not going to do anything rash.
“I won’t,” he says, “I didn’t really intend to, I don’t think. It was just a thought.”
“Why?” Eddie asked, his voice thick, “Why is it a thought at all? Are you not happy?”
Steve shrugs, stepping into Eddie’s orbit. He lets his boyfriend grab onto him and pull him close, lets him squeeze and cling and kiss the top of his head in relief.
“It’s not really about happiness,” Steve says. “Sometimes I am, sometimes I’m not. You make me happy. Robin makes me happy. Other things make me unhappy. it’s not really about that.”
“Then what is it about?” Eddie asked, pulling back just enough to cup Steve’s face in his hands.
“I don’t really know,” Steve admits. “It’s just….my whole life feels pointless, you know? There are things about it that I love, but overall it just seems like there’s not a point. I can’t really explain it. Sometimes I get all in my head and I think about how much easier it would be to not exist.”
“What the fuck, Steve?” Eddie demands. He doesn’t sound angry. Steve thinks this would be easier if he sounded angry. Instead, he just sounds devastated.
“I don’t know,” Steve says again. “I’m sorry.”
“I…you don’t have to apologize,” Eddie says. “This is…this is more than just feelings, I know that. You’re not…thinking clearly.”
“I’m a head case,” Steve says, snickering a little because otherwise he thinks he might cry.
“No,” Eddie says fiercely. “You just…you’ve seen some shit, and it’s messing with you. And we can fix it. We’ll figure out how to fix it, okay?”
He’s surprised by how good it feels that Eddie knows. That Eddie thinks it can be fixed. There’s just something about the idea that Eddie can help him carry the weight that makes a tension deep inside him relax just a little. He leans into his boyfriend’s arm a little more and squeezes his eyes shut.
“How?” he asks.
“I don’t know yet,” Eddie admits, “But we’ll figure it out, okay? So don’t…please don’t go off and do this kind of thing again, okay?”
“I wasn’t really—“ Steve starts, even though he’s not completely certain that’s true.
“I know,” Eddie interrupts. “But…as someone who’s really impulsive, believe me when I tell you all it takes is a second of thoughtlessness to do something stupid, okay? Don’t put yourself in situations where you can change your mind in a second.”
Steve nods and presses his face into Eddie’s neck.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“I know,” Eddie said, “Just…if the thoughts get bad again, wake me up, okay? Or…call Robin, or Dustin, or hell, even fuckin’ Keith if you have to. Don’t let yourself be alone.”
Steve snorts a laugh at that and squeezes him tighter.
“Okay. I promise.”
Eddie kisses the side of his head again and hugs him even tighter, so tight Steve thinks he could pop. It feels kind of good.
“I love you,” he says quietly.
“Yeah,” Eddie responds, his voice sounding wet again, “I love you, too.”
They cling to each other in the cold dark of the night, wind whipping up off the quarry behind them, and for the first time in a while Steve finds a spark of hope.
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