The Old House

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[ A/N: This is pretty much gonna be a part 2 for the last chapter, which has the context. ]
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Joe walked back to his room, hands shaking. He sat down on the floor. Joe was the type of kid who was always calm and sweet. But he felt like things were changing. He's growing up, soon enough he'll be an adult. It's scary.

And it's horrifying to think about how to adapt to the independent adult life. Without his families help. He was 2 when his dad died. At that age he could barely think, but he was happy. His mother took good care of him. Seen Dad was in a tragic accident, and they were in that place, right where he dies, Mom didn't want her sons to see their dads dead corpse.

Joe only got a glance of it. The terrifying sight of blood, Joe knew Dad's body wasn't looking right. It seemed like he was torn apart, organs out. And Dad, completely lifeless. The body he lived in was destroyed.

But now it's a repressed memory. Besides, if Joe ever gets sad he actually has healthy ways of coping. He likes to draw and write. He really likes art. Art in all sorts of forms, it makes him appreciate life. And that's enough for him to be happy in general.

It was a completely different story for Steve. A completely different category.

Steve had an impact on Joe. Steve was irreplaceable. Joe only had one older brother. Steve somewhat influenced Joe in a way, but he didn't pick up on many bad habits.

Now Joe was terrified. And the repressed memory started to come back, he could remember very little of the gruesome sight but he mainly remembers the feeling he felt. It was unwanted, downright sick, terrorizing. It was awful.

Joe slowly started to develop a fear of loosing his brother. Now the younger sibling would check up on him five times as much now. Steve found it annoying. But Steve felt so bad for his paranoid little brother.

Mom was out, it's just Steve and Joe in the house. Nobody else at the time could check up on Steve, so Joe went back to Steves room. And obviously he opened the door without knocking first.

Steve was found on his bed, playing with his Nintendo 64. "Oh my God, what is it now?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and set his game down. "I think I'm gonna stay right here until Mom gets back." Joe replies.

"... What?" Was all Steve could say. Well, he shouldn't be so surprised. He basically told his little brother that he was gonna kill himself, then suddenly he seemed to change his mind but it didn't convince Joe.

"Joe, I don't know how to say this but, you're quite paranoid. I get that. But are you sure? Are you not scared of me or something?"

"Scared of you?" Joe scoffed. "I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of loosing you! Terrified to death actually. It make me feel calmer to know for a fact that you're safe."

...

"Well, are we really ever safe? Death is all around us, Joe. It's surrounding us, it's within all of us. Living is just as risky as dying." Steve stated. Joe paused, taking in his words. Steve was fucked up, but Joe hasn't heard anything as real as that.

"Dying is too easy, I get it. Making an effort to die is even worse. Living is hell. Hell exists and it's the one we made. I know things must be way worse for you. But that doesn't mean you can't be happy, even if it's temporary. It'll come and go. Living is worth the risk." Joe tried to convince Steve.

"I'm not living, I'm existing." After Steve said that there was complete silence for a few seconds. Until they both chuckled and it turned into them laughing.

They got so carried away that they didn't even realize that was the first time Steve has laughed in a long time until after.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, living is super hard for me. Barely possible even. I'm scared, I see things, sometimes hear things. I'm sensitive and easily paranoid. Yeah, it isn't easy. But I'd go through this again, and again, and again, for you. For people who actually care about me. If the rest of my life is like this, then so be it. But I'm not gonna be the dead older brother. I'm not gonna let you have a sibling that took his own life."

Steve sighed. "If those words mean anything to you, at least. I'd get why you'd still be paranoid though."

Joe paused, "Thank you, Steve. It does mean something. But I think I'm still gonna stay here with you, all night if I have to." He sat on the edge of his brother's bed, smiling.

Steve rolled his eyes, "God, you better not be following me around like a lost puppy now." He chuckled, which made Joe happy, although he's irritating Steve. "Get used to it, edgelord. I'm gonna annoy you allllllllllllll the time. Nothing's gonna change."  Joe got closer to where Steve was sitting on his bed, he sat next to him.

Steve scoffed at the nickname his annoying little brother gave him. "Yeah, well you better give me some privacy every now and then. Otherwise, you'll walk in on something you wouldn't wanna see." He muttered smugly.

Joe paused for a moment, confused. Not seeming to get it until he saw his brother's sly smile.

"STEVE!!"

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