"No, that's not how it-- d'you think I would have called mum and left her all those messages if I'd known she was such a horrible woman? It's just all a lie. And I said things I shouldn't have said because I thought you were trying to take my life away from me when I was taking yours away from you all along. I should've been there for you every time things got too hard or too painful - I should've validated everything you felt at her shiva, told you everything you should have heard all these years. Instead I just-- let you check out and-- and I was worried about getting home and feeding Gus and-- and all these things that aren't important. They aren't important, Marc. D'you understand? They're not-- They're real but they're not-- This body. This life. These-- feelings. They're all about you. You can't just--"

Oh, what's the point? It's too late now for any of that. Steven is getting worked up stressing out over a past that can't be changed. He takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, tired and upset and upset about being upset, if that's even possible. Like he doesn't want to die die like this. They should be doing happy things.

Steven feels like the shittiest split personality coping mechanism right now. Marc got the untainted, innocent, enthusiastic protector he wanted. Steven should be happy about it, knowing full well that, had he known the things about Marc that he knows now, he wouldn't have been able to be there for Marc in the capacity he is now. But it still makes him sad, and feel bloody useless.

"I know, you wanted this for me, and I want to keep you safe, but I feel responsible. For you shouldering all this, for me. D'you know how many times I sat there cooking up excuses in my head for mum's behaviour because the woman you put in my head couldn't have possibly done the kinds of things she did to you? D'you know awful that makes me feel? The drink destroyed her and-- And I look at you and your drinking and--" aaaaand Steven's crying.