What was That, My Sweet, Sweet Nothing (I Can't Hear You Through the Fog) - TwoAretheTrees (2024)

Chapter 1: On the Spider's Lawn

Chapter Text

Normally, Robin would be worried about bugs getting into her hair, or upset with the way the dirt clings to her bare arms, or upset with the blood that slides down the crest of her upper lip, and pools at the seam of her mouth. She should be upset that her red beret has been knocked out of her sight, and she may have to waste precious time looking for it, upset because her temples are throbbing, and the air is stinging her eyes. Her brain feels like it’s trying to spit itself out her nose, and Robin really, really does not like that.

Even though the air is smokey, a soup of hellish dread and low, sultry air pressure, the sudden and faint flashes of light around her drive Robin crazy. She can feel bile welling in her throat. Her eyes clamp shut, and Robin crosses her arms over her chest, trying to keep breathing, breathing, breathing . It comes like broken gasps, and before she knows it, Robin is choking, trying to keep her stomach down as her lungs make an effort to empty themselves. The Earth burns away at the corners of Robin’s eyes, and her body is surely melting. The fermented smell of sizzling rock and ancient rubber makes her vision swim, and Robin clutches onto whatever she can grab. First, she squeezes her ribs, feeling her skin prickle uncomfortably at the pressure under the mucky tank top. God, she’d do anything to crawl out of her flesh right now. When she feels her breath jump a little too forcefully, Robin releases her sides, and tangles her fingers in the half dead patches of grass that arch their brittle bones around her. When they snap and splinter in her fingers, she can feel her distress mounting, fingertips crawling with powdered plant matter. She’s shoving her hair out of her eyes, pressing at the bruises around her neck, clawing at the tight, tight, awful denim around her knees, and clenching her jaw. There’s another flash of red light in the sky, and it makes Robin feel like death has pinched her ribs with cold, greasy fingers, and oh, she’s drowning in her own body. There’s an incessant crackling coming from not that far off, and it makes Robin’s vision go all foggy. A gasp is torn from her lips, followed by a groan, and Robin feels her guts roiling as the blood from her nose spirals into her throat. Her whole body lurches, writhes, and turns itself inside out.

Robin is dying .

Her hand lurches out instinctually at her side, squeezing tight around something large, blocky and plastic. The crackling is momentarily quieted. Oh, yeah. The walkie-talkie. Probably should have thought of that earlier. Fumbling blindly, she flicks it on, tunes it to what sounds like the right frequency, and cringes at how loud the jumbled voices sound. She makes a sad, uncoordinated move to bring the device close enough to her mouth that it’ll pick up her voice, and with all the strength she can muster, she extends the antenna, presses the button, and lets out another pained groan.

“Heyyyyy, captain Robin here,” she says. She tries a transatlantic accent, but her voice just drips out of her mouth in slurred gibberish. “Ladies and gentlemen, before I go on, I want you to know that you have no reason to panic, but we’ve got a man down. It’s umm, it’s me. I’m the man. I’m down. Over.”

“ Robin? sh*t! ” Dustin’s voice crackles through like a tortoise who discovered steroids, and even as it makes Robin’s headache worse, his litany of questioning swears calm the fluttering in her chest, even for just a moment.

“Robin, where’d you go?” Suddenly, Robin’s head is singing. Her heart climbs up into her throat, and her ears strain to hear the voice again. How lucky is she? Nancy Wheeler wants to know where she went? This is so cool.

“Robin,” comes Nancy’s voice again. “Are you alright? How do we get to you?” Robin’s stomach is coiling with something far more pleasant than nausea. If she’s right (and has not swallowed any vengeful parasites recently), Robin’s got butterflies ballooning in her stomach, and her cheeks flush. When she speaks into the receiver, her words are preceded with a hazy giggle.

“Oh Nancy,” she sighs, letting her eyes fall closed. “You know how to find me.” Silence.

“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking where you are. Seriously, did you get hit in the head?”

“Ha! Yeah,” Robin says. “I think I have. You know, I don’t exactly remember what happened. Hey, Nance, where am I?” There’s a groan on the other end, and before Nancy can get another word in, Steve’s frantic voice flickers in.

“Robs!” His voice is so loud, Robin is compelled to hold the walkie-talkie farther from her poor, aching ears.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington, who pissed in your porridge?”

“You dumbass, where did you go?”

“I’ll never tell…” Robin sings into the radio. Any further response is curtly cut off by Nancy and Max on the same line.

“She’s lost, Steve,” Nancy mutters.

“Yeah,” quips Max. “She doesn’t even remember how she got there.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight,” Nancy says. Even though they’re some uncertain distance apart, Robin can clearly see the other girl’s expression in her head. Nancy’s brows would be pinched together, firm and perfectly sculpted as ever. Her honey, doe eyes would be picking fights with small gods in the hazy skies, and her jaw would be firmly set at a harsh angle. Nancy looked really scary (pretty?) when she was upset.

“Hey, Red,” Robin slurs into the device.

“Yes?” Max bites back.

“Don’t you have El with you? Can’t she find me or some sh*t? I’m getting kinda bored out here, I really wish someone would come pick me up. I think I saw a spider. You know, normally, I don’t mind spiders, but I’m kinda invading its house, and therefore it would be legally justified in killing me. Castle defense or whatever it’s-”

“She doesn’t work like that, stupid. She’s not a GPS for your sorry ass.” Max’s words are harsh, and Robin thinks she can hear El whisper an astonished, Max! at her friend’s statement, but Robin knows that the fiery redhead is just worried. Probably.

“Woah there firefly,” Robin groans. She tries to sit up, but her back screams in protest. “No need to blow a fuse. I’m sorta lying here in a pulp. I just want some help. You guys gotta save me! Isn’t that how that song goes?”

“Rob,” Steve’s voice cuts her off. “I need you to look around yourself.”

“I need a hero!” Robin doesn’t need him mothering her. She wants to remember that song, anyway.

“Can you see your surroundings? How badly are you hurt?”

“I’m holding out for a hero ‘till the end of the night!”

“Robby, we can’t get you off the spider’s lawn until you tell us where you are !”

“Alright mom, Christ. Just let me finish the chorus!”

“Don’t you dare,” hisses Max. Too late. Robin keeps on singing, making sure to keep the walkie-talkie activated for them all to hear her. She manages to roll over on her stomach, and comes face-to-face with the gaunt wheel of a decrepit school bus. She laughs, and keeps singing. No wonder she smelt burnt rubber earlier, she’s only a few yards away from a pile of dripping, smoking tires.

“Oh sh*t, you guys won’t believe this,” she says, pausing her musical endeavors.

“What?” comes Nancy’s voice.

“There is a metric f*ck ton of tires over here. And a school bus. It’s like, green. It’s absolutely wicked! Steve, Stevie sweetie,”

“What?” He snaps. Robin can hear the hum of an engine from his end. Probably flying around town in that little car of his.

“Steve, you gotta check this place out, you would love it.”

“Robin, why would you say that?” She can practically hear him grinding his teeth. She giggles again.

“I don’t know, man, this place just has, like,” one of her hands is thrown up in the bloody sky, gesturing wildly. “It’s totally got your vibe, man.”

“Dump,” El’s serene, alien voice sparks to life on the other end. “She’s at the town dump. Max, come on,”

“See!” shouts Robin. “See Max? She is like a GPS for my sorry ass!”

“God, you are so stupid. ”

“Yes, yes I am. Now, put me on with your girl, I wanna talk to her.” Max splutters, but there’s some crackling, and before long, El’s awkward announcement of, Hi , is bluntly breaking the silence.

“El, have I ever mentioned that you are one of my very best friends?”

“No.”

“I think you’re just a wonderful person. Tell me, El, do you like ice cream?”

“Yes. It’s good.”

“Indeed it is, darling! How does an equally large metric f*ck ton of ice cream sound to you right now?”

“Pretty good.”

“That’s great! Get ready, super hero, because you’ve got a lifetime supply of grocery store ice cream and movie rentals coming your way!”

“Grocery store?” Ohhh there’s Nancy’s voice. It’s lighter now, less worried, though she sounds a little breathless. Maybe she’s running. Woah, running to Robin ? She really should consider passing out in random parts of town more often. This is going swimmingly.

“Oh, fine, Nancy Drew. I’ll get y’all something from a proper diner, all fancy and stuff. Though, nothing will ever be as good as Scoops Ahoy, especially when I was scooping. Steve, isn’t that right? Steve, I miss that. You know, I think we looked really good in those uniforms. Hey, my great uncle served in the Navy. Maybe I could ask for his uniform, bring it back into fashion. Wouldn’t that be a good idea, Steve?”

“Robin?” his voice bleeds from the walkie-talkie.

“Yes?” Robin grins.

“Shut up. Like, for a long time. Please shut up.”

“Anything for you, my guy.”

And for a good moment, she is quiet. The whole world is quiet. The splits in the Earth have stopped throbbing, and the wet sound of Robin’s beating heart has dripped into the background. Irritated tears glimmer on the edges of Robin’s swooping eyelashes, and sometimes, they leap down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from her nose on her upper lip. Her whole body feels bruised. Her ribs ache. Her mind is violet and hazy. What happened to her? Robin runs down the list in her head. She wasn’t attacked by anything from the Upside Down, for she knows she probably wouldn’t have made it out alive if she was. She’s also quite sure that this level of damage would have been impossible to be purely an accident. Where had she been when this had started? She knows that she’d been with Nancy, Max and El by the library, peering into the hellish gashes in the road. They’d split up, right? Nancy, ready to defeat god, had continued to walk along the asphalt ravine while the two younger girls rattled the locked doors of the library, El busting them open with her mind when Max started to get frustrated. Steve… where was Steve? Robin opened her eyes and rolled back onto her back. She felt bad for worrying him. He’d already lost so much, she didn’t want him to be even more stressed out. Especially when… oh, yeah; he’d been at the hospital visiting Eddie. Poor Steve. He held himself accountable for everything, no matter what Robin tried to do to convince him it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, couldn’t expect to save everyone. Besides, it could have been much worse. Sure, Eddie had lost one of his kidneys, but as far as Robin knew, those were relatively replaceable, as far as organs went. Even so, after three months of intensive care, he still wasn’t awake.

Robin needed him to be okay. For Dustin’s sake, for Steve’s sake, for her own, Eddie had to wake up. With Max being blinded in her left eye, and perhaps a permanent limp in her step, Robin couldn’t bear to see any more lasting harm on her friends. She still lies awake at night, alone in her room that feels too big, too empty, worrying about how much worse everything could have been. She remembers sitting in the ER waiting room, dazed and aching, an arm slung around Lucas’s shoulders as they shook. See, Robin really didn’t know Lucas that well, but she knew that Steve went to all of his games, so he couldn’t be that bad. He was sporty, strong and clever, though a little reserved. He felt distant for as long as she had known him, preoccupied with trying to get a leg up in life (boy, did she know what that was like). So, considering that she didn’t spend that much time with him, Robin couldn’t have expected to share in his grief the way she did. They sat there in those crummy gray chairs with uneven legs and too-short back rests, sobbing. The agony of fear, guilt, anguish nearly drove Robin to throwing up on the spot, leaving her holding tighter and tighter to this child. Lucas always seemed the most grown up of all the little kids, but here he was, broken, aching, ruined. This goddamn town had ruined them all. It was nights like that that left Robin wishing she did have a driver’s license, just so she could get the f*ck out of here, get all of them out of here.

God damn, now she was crying in earnest. What even was this sh*t show? This kinda stuff should stay in movie theaters, not be dumped on sh*t brained teens. Robin props herself up on the deteriorating tires of the bus, breath heaving as her vision momentarily blacks out. Robin’s quite sure she’s somewhat iron deficient from all the bleeding she’s been doing. When the grim shadows of the dump spider back across her vision, she lets out a low whine. She can’t stand to look at this sh*t, so her eyes travel down to her hands, which cradle her sore ribs. Robin had stolen one of Eddie’s thick, silver rings, which had lost all of its luster. In this lighting, with all the blood and grime, it looks like a sick growth on her hand, but around the base of her finger, its cooling weight soothed her. It was a reminder, a tether, something to keep her glued to survival.

Before she registers what she’s doing, Robin is reaching for the walkie-talkie, squeezing the button to activate it, despite the pain it shot up in her tendons.

“Hey, Steve,” she says, hoping it’s not too obvious how much she’s been crying. “I know I said I’d shut up, but I don’t want to be here anymore. How far away are you all?”

“Not far Robs, like, two minutes. Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right there, I promise.”

“Okay,” Robin mutters. “Just… be fast.”

“Robin!” Nancy’s voice sounds like bruise periwinkle, sorta like the bass notes that hums around Stevie Nicks’s voice or the rain. It’s a balm on the swelling rouge of Robin’s brain.

“Nance, are you close?”

“Yes! We’re only five minutes out, if we keep running. Stay where you are!”

“I don’t know…” Robin hums, trying to ignore the way her eyes burn. “I’m feeling like a long walk would do me some good, like, right now.”

“Ha ha,” says Nancy between heavy breaths. “Very funny.”

“I know,” Robin tries to rub some of the tears from her eyes. “I’m the best.”

Before she knows it, the bright headlights of Steve’s BMW are blazing across the land, burning her eyes before fading to nothingness. The car engine shudders to a stop. The break is set. Silence. And then, as the doors are thrown open, sound starts to explode around her. Steve and Dustin leap out of the car, Lucas trailing after them, extending the antenna on a walkie-talkie, and from her own device, Robin can faintly hear him updating Nancy. She can’t really focus on that, though, because in mere seconds, Steve has raced over to her, shouting, with an equally loud Dustin on his tail. Steve looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

“Robin! Holy sh*t, what happened to you? Who did this? How did you get all the way out here so fast? Are you hurt?”

“She looks like she’s f*ckin’ hurt!” Dustin yells. If Robin’s arms didn’t hurt so much, she would have thrown her hands over her ears. She squeezes her eyes shut, and is instantly scooped off the ground. She throws her eyes back open in disbelief.

“Steve. Steve! Put me down, what is wrong with you?” Steve doesn’t really give her a proper answer. He looks really stressed, his pupils blown wide as they frantically dance over her face.

“Robin, you look like sh*t . Like, absolutely pulverized.”

“Rude,” she mutters. “Can’t you put me down?”

“No, the ground is gross. You’re going in my car.”

“But Steveeee.”

“What?” When he turns to look at her, she can see how watery his eyes have become. She almost feels bad for him.

“Oh, Steve, don’t be such a big sap,” she sighs, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “Besides, I’ll ruin your leather seats. Do you really want that?”

“Yes,” he says firmly. “We need to get you somewhere to be cleaned up, I… we need you to be okay.”

“I’ll be fine, Steve. Just… ouch! Watch the ribs, dingus!”

By the time Steve has her settled in his back seat, Robin can see Nancy and the others leaping over the chain link fence at the far end of the dump. Max is slower, her gait spaced out and punctuated by a limp. El moves with her, careful to match her friend’s pace, but Nancy sprints ahead of them. Her makeup is smudged, run by sweat down her face in messy streaks, and her jaw is firmly locked. She sprints over to Steve’s car, throws open the door, and slides into a seat beside Robin. Her hands are immediately on Robin, gently pressing to her cheek, dancing over her freckles, brushing her bangs away to inspect a scratch over her eyebrow, fingers toying with her chin as she examines all the scrapes and abrasions that litter Robin’s neck and shoulders. The tears are back, leaking out of the corners of Robin’s eyes, and she worries that Nancy will notice how hot her face is. Their eyes lock, and Robin has a moment to savor the sweet, electric ocean of Nancy Wheeler’s gaze. She melts.

And then her body seizes up again. In all but a moment, everyone has managed to pile into the car, and they’re all shouting . Steve’s in the driver’s seat, with Dustin half climbing over him, yelling at Lucas, who’s crawling in through the window of the passenger seat. Max is trying to open the door around him, milky blue eyes wide in horror as she stares at Robin. El opened the door by Nancy, looking like she wants to get in the car, too, but is too afraid. Everyone is upset about something. Max is begging her boyfriend to let her in the car, and Lucas is trying to tell Steve the fastest way to the hospital. Dustin is screaming something about having called shotgun, and all of Steve’s words come out in a jumbled blob of aimless noise. Nancy’s also shouting at him, her voice ringing in Robin’s skull.

The only one who is quiet is El. She’s been keeping her hair shorter, slicking it back and taking to wearing more dark, oversized clothes. She looks badass, but Robin knows it’s because she’s afraid. She’s protecting herself. Tonight, El is wearing one of Hopper’s old black leather jackets, and even as it hangs off her shoulders like inky wings, it doesn’t dwarf her so much as it makes her look grim. Their eyes lock, and Robin sees that the younger girl is teary, too. Everything is just too much. Too much action, too much noise, too much grief. It’s destroying them. Robin doesn’t know what to do. She’s feeling light headed, descending into a coughing fit that burns her ribs. Her whole body shakes, and the Earth shakes with her. She feels like she’s going to explode. When her lungs have finally calmed down, she turns her gaze to Steve, pleading with him with her eyes. For a moment, his eyes widen, and he stops his idea mid sentence. His brows quickly come down in a frown, and he shouts,

“Everyone, shut up !” The quiet falls on the forcefully, weighing on all their shoulders. A very disgruntled Steve throws his door open, pushing Dustin off of him, and he’s quickly by Robin’s side in the back seat.

“sh*t,” he mumbles, keeping his voice low. “Sorry Rob, I forgot about the noise thing. Oh…” he trails off, staring intensely into Robin’s eyes. “You probably have a concussion, I’m so sorry.” Over her shoulder, he and Nancy share a look, and that glare is back on Steve’s face. His usually docile, basset hound expression is morphed into something enraged.

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill whoever did this to you.” His voice is dark, promising, and it makes Robin nervous. She doesn’t want to cause any more trouble. Worse, she can’t exactly remember who did this to her, and is afraid Steve might jump to some dangerous conclusions. When their eyes meet again, Steve looks like he has more to say, but he’s cut off.

“Steve,” El’s even voice floods the car. “Please, can we go? We have to help Robin.”

“Yeah!” Dustin hollers, leaving El and Robin to both recoil at his volume. “You’ve tried to fight children, and lost .” From the window, Lucas swats at his ear, shutting him up.

“Dude,” he hisses. “Now is not the time.” Steve turns his glare on the boys in the front.

“Get out,” he says. “We have to figure out how to make sure we all fit.” In the brief moment of hesitation, Nancy steps in. She’s always been so decisive, Robin really admires her for it.

“Steve, you’re obviously driving. El and I can ride with Robin in the back. Lucas, you and Max ride in the front, and Dustin…” Nancy gives him a stern look. The younger teen groans.

“But Nance, I was just telling Steve! I called shotgun.”

“Dustin, please?” urges Max. Dustin glares at her, but slumps his shoulders in defeat.

“You know, one day, I’m going to get to sit somewhere normal while all you loons shove someone else in the trunk. I can’t wait for that day.”

“Get in the trunk, Dustin,” groans Lucas.

“Fine, but this is the last time I’m doing this! Can you believe it? I mean, I’ve fought interdimensional monsters. I raised an interdimensional monster. But now, I’m going to die by suffocation in a dumbass car trunk . Truly, unbelievable!”

There’s a creak, a groan, and a thunk, before Dustin yells,

“Max! Come close this thing.”

Robin no longer has the energy to keep invested in all the commotion. She closes her eyes, and groans when another pain shoots itself up her leg. She goes to move her hand to rest on her knee, but it’s caught in someone else’s hold. She doesn’t have to open her eyes to know it’s Nancy, but she does anyway, just to be sure. Nancy’s eyes are glittering and sad, drooping downward at the edges from sheer exhaustion and depression. She looks shy, more timid than Robin’s ever seen her, with her high cheeks flushed rosy. Robin tugs her a little closer, and Nancy glances into her eyes just once, checking that everything’s okay, before leaning her forehead on Robin’s good shoulder. She hasn’t really taken notice of it until now, but Robin’s still crying, and sniffs slightly to try and hide it as best she can. Nancy shudders against her, the same way Lucas did all those weeks ago, and El’s hiding her face in her hands. Robin feels her heart break a little more.

“Steve?” Nancy’s voice sounds more distant, far away.

“Yeah?”

“Are your parents home?”

Silence. It’s filled by heavy breathing, an occasional sound of Dustin shifting in the trunk, and the groan of the engine, but Steve doesn’t speak for a moment. When he does, he sounds tired, sad.

“No,” he sighs.

“Take us to your place, Steve.” Nancy’s tone leaves no room for negotiation. And so, even as Robin sees his shoulders tense, Steve says,

“Right away, Nance.”

Chapter 2: What Remains Hidden

Chapter Text

When Robin wakes up, she’s struck by how absolutely awful she feels. Her head is pounding, and her skin is crawling lazily over her nerves, lighting up parts of her body with red, burning pain at spontaneous moments. Her eyes open unevenly, the left one sticking shut and requiring a decent amount of effort to pry open again. When her vision comes into focus, it’s on El, with her small, pale, strangely cold hand pressing into Robin’s wrist. Their eyes lock, and neither says anything. Robin just does her best to smile, ignoring the ways her lips split at the strain, and tries to reassure the younger girl. She turns her hand over, and lets their palms slide together. She doesn’t squeeze El’s hand, because that will cause unimaginable pain that Robin is not in the mood to toy with right now, but still, she hopes it's comforting. Eleven manages to smile back before letting go gently, and relinquishing her spot by the car door to Steve.

“Hold on,” Robin mumbles, hating the way her voice scratches out of her throat. She turns to Nancy, who’s out cold, and brushes her bangs away from her face.

“Nance,” Robin whispers. “We’re home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, we’re at Steve’s place.” Nancy’s eyes crack open, meeting Robin’s as she slouches further into her. She yawns once, tries to bat the sleepiness from her eyes before taking Robin’s hand again. She must have dropped it while she was sleeping.

“Can I help you get in?” she asks, gaze darting back and forth between Robin’s eyes.

“Actually,” comes Steve’s voice. “I can get her, just hold the door, Nance.” Nancy gives him a suspicious look before finally relenting. She pries herself out of the middle seat and scurries up the steps as Steve eased Robin out of the car.

“Robs, will you please let me carry you in?”

“Steve, I can still walk. I promise, it's not as bad as it looks.”

“I don't know, it sure looks pretty bad.”

“What do you know, pretty boy?” As she says it, Robin goes to take a firm step, and upon doing so, discovers her knee’s new passion for giving out. She crumples against Steve, who gives her a pointed look, and she frowns at him.

“If I let you do this,”

“Yeah?”

“We never speak of it again, got it?”

“Okay.”

“And we won’t find it funny.”

“Nope.”

“Because this sh*t is really not funny. Okay?”

“Sounds great,” Steve says, reaching for Robin. He hoists her into his arms, trying to be mindful of her bruised ribs, and valiantly ignores all of Robin’s complaining as they make their way inside. Nancy shuts and deadbolts the door once everyone is inside, and diligently goes about turning on all the lights on the first floor.

“Lucas!” she calls. “If you go through that door, take the hallway, and turn into the second room on the right, there’s a bathroom. In the left, lower cabinet, there’s a first aid kit. Bring it to me, please?” Lucas doesn’t even bother verbally responding, and instead heads straight where Nancy told him to, Max right behind him.

“Dustin,” Nancy continues. “Find something simple for me to make up in Steve’s fridge. Snacks, too, we’ll want snacks. Get us food.”

“What kind of snacks, Nancy? Steve basically lives off of anything that comes in a bag, so there’s a lot to choose from.”

“Why do you have to make it sound like a bad thing, kid?” Steve grumbles to no one, following Dustin into the pantry.

“I don’t know,” Nancy says, taking Robin’s hand and pulling her into the kitchen. They move slowly, Nancy carefully watching Robin’s pace, letting her hand fall to her waist when Robin starts to sway on her feet. “Just bring us something good.” Nancy stops in front of the sink, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“Lucas!” she shouts. “Bring a washcloth, too, if you can find one.” Nancy starts herding Robin towards the counter by the sink, and only stops when Robin’s lower back hits the countertop. Suddenly, her breath feels quite short. Her cheeks feel hot, and Nancy is staring right into her eyes. Again, she’s clenching her jaw, but her eyes are less flighty, and hold Robin’s confidently. Her lips are slightly parted, and even though she’s a good four inches shorter than Robin, Nancy manages to look bold. She stands up straight, eyes glittering while she inspects the girl before her. Robin folds a little under her gaze. Suddenly, Nancy’s slender fingers are finding their way onto Robin’s hip bones, squeezing once gently. She glances up to Robin’s face, checking for any sign of pain. To Robin’s surprise, there’s no pain, only an explosion of excitement in her stomach. Is she seeing things, or is Nancy blushing too. Her face seems rosy, eyes darting to the sink once before meeting Robin’s once more, and she offers a small smile. What is she-

“I want to get you up on the counter here, take some weight off your legs. Can you get up okay?” Oh. Not quite what Robin was expecting (hoping for), but she could make it work. She tested putting some weight on her right hand to help herself up, but was met with instant discomfort. She hissed through her teeth, and tried her left hand. Still uncomfortable, but not impossible.

“Yeah, I think I can. Can you… umm… will you help me?” Nancy, sweet, perfect Nancy, beamed, and says,

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Ready?” Nancy nodded once, and with a small hop, a push up from her left hand, as well as the pressure of Nancy’s delicate fingers on her hips, Robin quickly finds herself on top of the counter. Robin offers a smile down to Nancy, who gently squeezes her hips once before letting go. She walks over to the sink, and in a split second, her soft face manages to tighten up again.

“Lucas! What is taking so long?”

“We can’t find the washcloths!” His voice sounds frantic, and he dashes into the kitchen after a second. He nervously holds out the first aid kit, a slight tremor in his hands making itself obvious. Nancy sighs, exasperated.

“Go ask Steve where they are, and bring them to me when you’ve found them. Send El in for me, please.”

“Okay, just a second,” Lucas calls out as he darts back into the living room. Nancy's hands fall to her hips, rubbing her eyes as an afterthought before straightening up again. After a moment, El walks in, and doesn’t speak until she’s standing right beside Nancy.

“Hi.”

“Hi. El, honey, can you help me get Robin all cleaned up? Are you comfortable with that?” El’s eyes narrow, turning on Robin. Robin feels a bit like an ant under a magnifying glass. El is even shorter than Nancy, just by a little bit, but her understated presence is ever powerful. Even in the dim lighting, her dark, ebony eyes glow. She looks up and down at Robin before nodding.

“Yes. How do I help?” Nancy starts pulling out paper towels, turning on the sink, and the two busied themselves with preparing stuff from the first aid kit. Lucas eventually reappears, four washcloths in hand, before heading off to the pantry. Max trails after him, pausing in the kitchen before coming to lean on the counter beside Robin. She doesn’t say anything, but lets her head rest against Robin’s good shoulder, letting a sigh spill from her body. Her eyes fall closed, and Robin brings her left hand to gently rest on Max’s shoulder. Max is shaky, and mumbles something about how worried she was, how Robin's really dumb, stupid dumb idiot, thank f*ck she's okay. She’s not crying, not yet, but she looks so fragile. Her left arm is still in a cast because of her slowly healing humerus, and her posture's awkward and stiff thanks to the steel rod that had to be put along her spine. Her hair had been cut shorter in the last months, falling around her shoulders in clean streaks of fire. Her freckles aren’t as dark as they usually were, for Max had spent most of the summer indoors so far. Robin whispers back that she'll be okay, that Max shouldn't have to worry about her, and finally, tears start to leak from her eyes, Max trying to tilt her head to hide it. Robin has to fight the urge to wrap Max up in her arms, to reassure her that everything will be okay, but she can’t. She is physically incapable of offering a good hug in her condition, and she feels that it’s wrong to make hollow promises. So Robin is crying, too. She’s doing a lot of that tonight, and while she’d normally be quite embarrassed, it feels nice to cry with someone else. So often, she'd shoved her face into her pillow at night, choking on how broken she felt, how ashamed she was that everyone else still had to put up with this apocalypse. Robin wants so badly to be good for all of them. Her fingertips shakily draw circles on Max’s shoulder, trying to offer as much comfort as she can. El joins them quickly, wrapping her arms around Max. Typically, physical contact made El jumpy, especially when it was unannounced, but Max was one of the few people she never hesitated to join arms with, or grab her hand, or hug, or lean on. El had gone much of her life alone, without any friends, and to have someone’s trust, to share in someone’s joy like she did with Max, was unmeasurably important to her. It was equally invaluable to share in Max’s grief, so El gave Robin an apologetic glance as she pulled Max away from the counter, and into the open floor where the angle wasn’t so uncomfortable for the redhead. Robin’s heart breaks for them.

“Hey,” Nancy says softly. “Is it okay if I touch this arm? I want to start cleaning you up so we can get an idea of how bad everything is.”

“Yeah,” Robin says. She’s too tired to wipe away her tears, so she just blinks rapidly once or twice before looking at Nancy again. Nancy’s hand wanders up her face, thumb swiping away the moisture at the corners of Robin’s eyes, and manages to let a few of her own tears fall. She lets out something between a laugh and a sob, trying her best to smile. Robin can’t even hide her sadness, and just lets her head fall further into Nancy’s hand as she cries.

Nancy fixes her with a steady look, trying to keep her breath even as she sooths Robin. All this crying has her ribs burning, the bruises feeling more agitated than ever. But she simply can't help herself; it kills Robin to see all the trouble she's putting them through. These sweet, sweet children are still so little, they shouldn't be the ones fussing over her. Nancy seems to catch on to her train of thought.

“You know,” Nancy says. “I can’t tell if we’re good pseudo-parent figures, or bad ones. Sure, we manage to keep everyone safe and alive, but I wonder if that's enough. They shouldn’t have to deal with this. We shouldn’t have to deal with this.” Nancy shakes her head, and sniffs.

“I’m so glad you’re…” Nancy cuts herself off, biting her knuckle before letting her hand slip away from Robin’s cheek. Robin almost reaches after her, mourning the loss of contact as her sobs continue to hiccup past her lips.

“What, Nance?” Robin curls in on herself, hands returning themselves to her ribs.

“I was so scared that we might have lost you.”

“What?”

“I’m just happy that you’re alive. Robin, you went off along the other end of the split, and then I turned around for one second, and you were gone. I… I couldn’t be the reason you died. I was so, so scared, and I couldn’t find you. You wouldn’t pick up when we tried to reach you, and we had no idea what had happened to you. I was so scared. I’m still scared. We don’t even know what got you! I just-” Nancy cuts herself off with another sob, and she bites her lip, hard. Robin watches as the plush skin turns white under the pressure, and Robin aches for her. Her left hand, her better hand, finds one of Nancy’s, and holds on to her as tightly as she can.

“I’m really sorry, Nancy. I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t even know what I was doing. Seriously. I can’t… I hardly remember anything. I’m sorry.”

“No!” Nancy’s hand is back on Robin’s cheek. “It’s not your fault, Christ, of course I don’t blame you. I never could.” Nancy can't look at her any longer. Her cheeks are burning, her shoulders closing in on themselves, her free hand pinching her gut. Robin looks upon her with a mixture of misery and reverence. Nancy is wearing a short sleeved blouse that shows off her arms. Robin takes note of how strong she’s gotten, tricep muscles occasionally twitching as more tears leek from her eyes. Even as she withers under the weight of this godforsaken world, Nancy still looks angelic, commanding. She’s a far cry from the angry girl she’d been stuck in the library basem*nt with all those months ago. She never could have imagined that prissy Nancy Wheeler would be so soft, so gentle with her. Robin would have never known how truly capable she was, a natural born leader muzzled by sh*tfaced men and her own anxieties. Her right hand, her bad hand, comes to rest on the muscles of Nancy’s arm, hovering there timidly, marveling at the way Nancy twitches under her palm. She urges the shorter girl to relax her hold on herself, and Nancy notices, looking bashfully to Robin's face again.

“Sorry,” she says between sniffs. “I get really shaky when I’m nervous. I can’t seem to control it.” Something like shame dances over Nancy’s face before she looks down at her feet. Her shoulders keep shaking, unable to focus as Robin’s hands gingerly hold her.

“It's okay. At this point, we're all a little wound up.” Robin laughs weakly. Her voice still sounds unusually rough to her sore ears. “You know, you're kinda ripped.” Nancy laughs, a little, she thinks. Her sobbing is weakened by a brief moment of stupidity, and it calms Robin.

“So, doctor,” Robin hums, pulling Nancy a little closer to her. She's relieved to see some of the tension melt from Nancy's shoulders. “You gonna fix me up or what?”

—

It takes Nancy forty-five minutes, according to Dustin’s calculator watch, to patch Robin up. Her repairs require the expert knowledge of El, Max, Nancy and Steve combined, as well as some tips given as an afterthought by Lucas and Dustin, to get her in somewhat working order. Even though all she had done was sit on the counter, lifting this hand, tilting her head that way, taking off one shoe and then another, and so on, Robin found herself exhausted. When Nancy eased her off the counter, Robin melted into her arms, letting her hands find their way to Nancy’s waist as she tried to steady herself. El dragged Steve to her side. They spoke quietly, pointing and gesturing way more than Robin had ever seen either of them do before. Before she knew it, Steve was nodding, sighing, and placing a hand on Robin’s heaving shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll carry you to one of the rooms on the ground floor here and go get you something to change into. Would that be okay?” Robin didn’t bother with words. She just nods, letting her body flop into Steve’s hold, poking his arms and giggling.

“Woah,” she whispers as he lifts her up again. “You’re almost as strong as Nance.”

“Haha,” he mumbles. The bags under his eyes looked more violet than ever. “You’re so observant.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, squishing her cheek on her shoulder. She shoves her tongue into her cheek, wiggling it around until Steve squirms.

“What the f*ck? Robin, don’t lick me!”

“Steve, that’s slander, I am not licking you.”

“Well, don’t do that any more. Man, I can’t deal with this anymore.” Steve pauses, looking around the guest bedroom. He presses his lips together, raising his brows in an unimpressed expression.

“You’re welcome,” he announces before dumping her as unceremoniously as he can without hurting her. Robin throws her hand to her forehead, and pretends to swoon.

“Woe is me! Thank you, mighty hero! You have saved me in my moment of need, however can I-”

“Bye, Robin!” Steve lets Nancy slip into the room before closing the door, wandering upstairs. Nancy races over to the guest bed, throwing herself onto it in a moment of uncharacteristic childishness. She rolls over, staring Robin in the eye.

“I figured getting in and out of clothes would be a bitch. Do you want help, or would it be better if I let you be?” Oh, sh*t, letting Nancy help with getting her dressed? Robin wasn’t sure. On one hand, whatever piece of skin that she had that wasn’t scratched, bruised or bloodied was buzzing with discomfort against her black tank top, and her shoulder mobility felt frustratingly limited. Having someone to help her out would be, well, helpful. But she also felt anxiety well up in her throat, and Robin couldn’t look at Nancy. Robin didn’t think she was very pretty, and was terrified Nancy would find her gross. She had a bony rib cage that jutted out just at the bottom two ribs, and could not, no matter how much she worked out with Steve, seem to get rock solid abs. Worse, she didn’t want anyone to see the stretch marks that littered the insides of her thighs. They were ugly and violet, like deep, translucent gashes. They prickle uncomfortably against the unforgiving material of Robin’s jeans, making it impossible for Robin to find comfort. Everything sucks.

It’s not that she thinks Nancy is some sort of judgmental bitch, or that she’ll react that poorly, but Robin hasn’t been in so much as a bathing suit around other people in at least two years. She trusts Nancy, really, she does want to, but she can’t seem to make herself stop catastrophizing.

“If you want space, that’s totally okay. I just want to do whatever is easiest for you. Okay?” Robin sighed, squishing her body into the mattress as best as she could.

“Okay,” she mumbled around a mouthful of a quilt. “You can stay, but… I- you have to promise-”

“Don’t worry, Robin,” Nancy soothes, letting her hand come to rest squarely between Robin’s shoulder blades. “I won’t judge. I won’t really look, I just want to make sure you can get out of these old things and into something clean. If it doesn’t feel right, I can leave, too. I won’t be upset.”

“You’re certain?” Robin peeks out of the blankets, catching the mournful glimmer of Nancy’s glowing eyes.

“Very certain. I promise,” Nancy whispers. Robin sighs, turning to look at Nancy fully.

“Okay, you can stay.” Nancy beams.

—

“Okay, arms over your head, and hold still!”

“I’m trying!” Robin’s not really trying. Okay, well, she’s doing good at holding her arms up, but the feeling of her shirt being peeled off of her very sensitive skin is so gross. It has her squirming and wincing away from any sort of movement. Nancy sighs, a little frustrated.

“Can I try something?” She says, hands retreating from the hem of Robin’s tank top.

“Just be careful, everything feels awful.” Nancy’s fingers are back, peeling the top off from her left side, first, rucking it up to the bottom of Robin’s sports bra before pulling her arm out of it entirely. This makes it easy for her to quickly slide it off of Robin’s other side, even as her ribs twinge with discomfort. Robin is granted a single moment of relief, in which she heaves in a grateful breath uninhibited by the clawing of her shirt, before she remembers that Nancy can see her. Her fears are realized all too quickly. Nancy gasps, eyes fixed on Robin’s battered body. In her sports bra. sh*t. Even as her elbows twinge in pain, Robin quickly folds her arms across her chest, angling her body away from her friend.

“Oh Robin,” she says, her voice strained. “This is… horrible. How did we not see this before?”

“What? What do you mean?” Robin starts trying to twist around to look at her back, but Nancy gasps again, shouting,

“No, no, don’t do that. Oh my god, holy sh*t. Steve!”

“Nancy, please, don’t-” Suddenly, Steve is at the door, yelling,

“Is she okay? sh*t- f*ck- I’ll go get the first aid kit again. Hold on Robin!” As he runs away, his feet pound into the floor, shouting.

“Robin,” Nancy says, voice sounding a little high and tense. “I’m going to need you to stay calm, okay?”

“Nance, can you just tell me?”

“I don’t know how you can’t feel this… sh*t. Umm, okay, well… there’s like, this gash. It’s all down your back, but it looks shallow. It’s under your shirt. It’s hardly bleeding, too, but it looks… really, really bad. I’m going to bandage this, okay? f*ck…”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yeah, obviously. I wouldn’t freak you out for no reason. I have no idea… can you seriously not feel this at all?”

“I mean, nothing feels great , but it doesn't feel worse, you know?”

When Steve knocks on the door, Nancy scrambles over to him, thanking him as she shoves him back out of the room. She jumps back onto the bed, hand landing on Robin’s waist as she sets about spraying neosporin on the gashes.

“Let me know if anything starts hurting, okay?”

“Alright,” Robin sighs, not really feeling anything. “Honestly, everything is just… numb. It tingles.”

“Ugh, it’s all yellowed around the edges. Here, let’s see if we can clean you up.” Robin is silent as Nancy wipes her up, securing dressing and bandages across the swath of skin entirely incapable of feeling something. What Robin can feel is the way that Nancy’s hand occasionally settles at the nape of her neck, the top of her shoulder, the dip of her waist. Her thumb draws small, shaky circles where it rests on Robin’s freckled skin, muttering quiet sorry ’s, even though Robin’s not flinching. Instead, she closes her eyes, humming one of those songs that Steve liked to play in his car, leaning into Nancy’s touch. Then, her bandages are cinched tight around her middle, secured with a safety pin that Nancy managed to fish out, and Nancy’s warmth is gone from her side.

She realizes Nancy isn’t even looking at her, and is instead busy with shaking out and haphazardly folding Robin’s shirt before grabbing the shirt and sweatpants that Steve brought for her. She’s muttering to herself, trying to hide the worry evident in her face, bringing the clothes over to Robin. Nancy laughs when she holds up the shirt to Robin, pointing to the chest where a band name is emblazoned.

“Look,” Nancy giggles. Her effort to change her tone is valiant. “The Smiths. Didn’t know Steve was such a romantic.” Robin scoffs as Nancy settles beside her on the bed.

“No way you didn’t know that. You guys literally dated . That simple man runs on corny romance. Last summer, when Tears for Fears released their new sh*t, Steve would drive with me to this farm in the middle of nowhere, and he’d play that album on repeat. For like, two hours straight, Nance. I can’t believe I survived it. Truly, it’s a wonder I’m still alive today.”

“What farm?”

“f*ck if I know,” Robin shrugged. “But he liked to go there a lot. He climbed on top of this barn at the edge of the property one time, and I sh*t you not, he fell straight through the roof. It collapsed into this loft thing filled with hay-”

“A hay loft?”

“Yeah, one of those. Anyway, he thought it was funny. He was all proud of himself for that. Honestly, I have no idea how he’s lasted this long. He must have been a hazardous child. He still is. I worry he’s setting a bad example for all the little kids.”

“Robin,” Nancy says, eyebrows raised. “They’re not little kids. Lucas will turn sixteen in the fall.”

“Well, most of them are shorter than me, and they’re younger. I’ve decided that they’re little.”

“Okay, old man. You’re the boss.” Nancy rolls her eyes, reaching for Robin again. The blond jumps away from her touch, panic in her eyes.

“Oh,” Nancy says, drawing her arms back. “Sorry. Umm. Do you want to sleep in that?” No, of course not. Robin normally liked sports bras, but the elastic around the bottom was squeezing her breath out, and it made the watery bruises on her ribs even more sensitive every time she tried to yawn. It felt sweaty, bloody, gross, just generally unpleasant.

“I… fine. Just don’t look .”

“Got it,” Nancy says, voice even. “Now turn around. I’ll undo it from the back, and you can deal with it. That alright?” Robin obediently turns to face the wall, nodding. Nancy’s hands gently skirt over her spine, hissing through her teeth. Her thumb dances over the bandages before drifting down. She lets her fingers rest for a moment on Robin’s lower back, running her thumb over the one bit of undamaged skin she could find.

“Just evil,” she muttered to herself. “God, this looks painful. I’m so sorry, Robin.” Robin sighs, her shoulders slumping. She glances over her shoulder, meeting Nancy’s mournful stare.

“There’s nothing you could have done.”

“But I-”

“Nance, please, stop blaming yourself. It’s already happened. Can you just get me out of this damn thing?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” she says. And then Nancy’s cool fingers are slipping under the elastic that pinches just below her shoulder blades, lifting slowly and carefully, mindful to pull the fabric away from Robin’s body as much as possible to reduce friction. Despite her nerves, Robin feels the relief almost instantly. Her skin stops its crawling, and her ribs relax, sliding around in her gut until they no longer burn with the same intensity.

“Okay, arms,” Nancy commands, and Robin complies eagerly, if not a little slow. She’s able to get it off the rest of the way by herself, quickly folding her arms in front of herself again. She’s about to say something when Steve’s shirt hits her in the head. She makes a small noise of surprise before saying, “Thanks, Nance,” from under the fabric. Robin manages to wiggle into the shirt alright on her own, and once she’s comfortable in it, she turns around to find Nancy right beside her.

“Do you think you can get into the pants by yourself?” she asks.

“Yeah, thanks. Wait for me outside, I’ll be out in a little,” Robin says.

“‘Kay,” Nancy says, hand coming to rest on Robin’s elbow for just a moment. Before Robin even gets the chance to savor how close they really are, Nancy’s pulling away, shuffling out the room, offering one longing, trailing glance to Robin before she’s shutting the door behind her. Robin realizes she must be furiously blushing, because her cheeks are positively glowing with heat. She presses the heels of her palms into them gently, hissing as she realizes she must have looked like a fool. She had it really, really bad. Just like Steve’s sh*tty song said, she really was head over heels for Nancy.

—

When Robin wanders out of the guest room, drowning in Steve’s oversized clothes, she nearly trips over Nancy. Wow, when she said she’d be waiting right outside, she really meant it. Robin yelps, almost losing her balance before Nancy darted to her feet, trying to steady the blond.

“sh*t, sorry Robin. I didn’t want to be too far, so, I just- I just needed to be close. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Robin sighs, leaning into her. “Can we go sit? I’m famished, and standing doesn't feel great.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Come on.” Nancy wraps her arm just around Robin’s waist, letting the taller girl’s arm drape over her shoulders, leaning against one another as Nancy slowly leads Robin to the living room. Nancy deposits Robin on the couch before running off to the kitchen, shouting orders as she goes. Robin busies herself by flicking on the TV, changing channels, and quickly discovering that everything bored her.

“Steve,” she yells. “Can I watch The Breakfast Club ?”

“I thought you hated that movie?”

“No, stupid, I just say that. I want to watch something dumb and fun. Pleaseee?”

“Hold on Robs, give me a second. Lucas! Go get Robin the thing.”

“The VHS?”

“Obviously. Christ, you dipsh*ts getting an education?”

“Leave it be, Steve. Aren't you the one who almost had to repeat seventh grade?” Lucas grumbles as he walks into the main room. He opens the cabinet under the television, rooting around for a moment before holding up a tape marked with the title.

“This one?” he asks.

“The one and only,” Robin beams, flopping over on the sofa. Steve’s house has the best furniture. She really likes this one couch, the leather one that she and Steve cover in throw pillows and quilts for their movie nights. It’s really comfy, and it feels so spectacularly fancy. As she tries to settle in, Lucas takes the remotes, clicking on a few buttons before joining Robin on the couch. She hums along with Simple Minds as the song starts, deciding it’s best to just sit up. No matter how much she squirms around to find a comfortable way to lay down on the couch, nothing’s working. She ends up folding one leg underneath herself, while holding her other knee to her chest. She sighs, sticking her tongue out at Lucas as he raises his eyebrows.

“What?” she hisses. “Gotta be comfortable to watch a movie.” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“You know,” Robin continues. “Don’t you have something to do right now? Maybe I should just-” He gives her a pointed look, holding his finger over his lips.

“Don’t tell Nancy I’m here,” he whispers over the opening credits. “She’s making us do a sh*t ton of cooking. Like, chicken soup, mac-and-cheese, a caesar salad, and she’s even got Dustin calling in sh*t from the pizza place in old town. I have no idea how we’re going to be able to eat all that food. I’m just tired. I wanna sit on my ass.” Robin kicks him in the knee, grinning.

“Oh, fine, I won’t rat on you. But really, I think you should-”

“Shhh!” Lucas snaps. He points to the TV as it cuts to a shot of Shermer High School, swatting her foot away. “Don’t you want to watch your movie?” Reluctantly, Robin remains quiet.

—

Turns out Lucas wasn’t lying about how much food Nancy was preparing. Fifteen minutes into the film, everyone else shuffles out of the kitchen, arms laden with plates piled with stuff. Nancy pushes a plate filled with mac-and-cheese, as well as a piece of pizza, into Robin’s hands. Next, she’s handing her a bowl of soup, and an assortment of silverware. Nancy then squishes herself in beside Robin, the warmth of her body a balm on Robin's weary being. Steve is there, too, shooing her over to make room for himself on the other side of Nancy.

“Woah, what- ?” El’s in front of her in seconds, pushing a glass of water towards her.

“Drink,” she commands.

“What? Guys, hold on, I don’t-”

“Hydrate.” El says, putting the glass into Robin’s hand, pushing her plate into her lap. Her expression is firm, resolute. Once Robin finally submits to her order, El relaxes, settling onto the ground at Robin’s feet. She starts picking at a loose thread at the ankle cuff of Robin’s sweatpants, ignoring the movie. Max joins El, sitting between Lucas’s legs, and leaning her cheek on his knee. Lucas is also humming along with the music, busying himself with braiding and unbraiding Max’s hair, trying to avoid the stern look Nancy shot at him. Dustin comes in, too, his glass nearly spilling over with what must be Dr. Pepper (Dustin only drank Dr. Pepper, which Robin learned after witnessing a rather passionate lecture when Steve dared to give him Diet co*ke one time). He perches awkwardly, albeit proudly, on the armrest of the couch closest to Steve. The older teen shoves his elbow into Dustin’s hip, giving him an exasperated look, but Dustin says right where he is, growing increasingly smug. Robin laughs a little.

“Nance,” Robin whispers, gesturing to her plate. “What am I supposed to do with all this?” Nancy shrugs.

"I thought you said you were famished," she hums, readjusting herself in the small space. El turns to look up at her, pushing her dark hair back from her face.

“Just eat it, duh.” She doesn’t even give Robin a chance to react, turning her attention back to unraveling the cuff of her sweatpants. Robin sighs, picking up her fork, and setting to work.

It’s only half way through the movie when Robin ends up dozing off. She’s eaten all her chicken noodle soup, half of her pizza, and half of her mac-and-cheese. She drank all her water, then Nancy’s, before finishing off the rest of Lucas’s. Now, she’s curled up against Nancy, breath fanning out from her nose across Nancy’s collar bones, hands firmly intertwined. El’s asleep at her feet, holding tight to Robin’s calf. Steve looks upon them fondly, noticing the way Nancy’s face turns pink when Robin shifts even closer to her. He throws an arm over Dustin’s shoulders as the kid starts to slide off the armrest and onto the couch beside him. Sure, Steve’s got plenty of chairs around his living room, plenty of space for everyone to sprawl out, but now, it makes the most sense to keep everyone close. For once, he finds that he doesn’t mind being surrounded by tons of people. It’s nice, having everyone so close. He’s finally been able to squash that fluttering of fear in his chest, steadying his breathing and keeping his vision clear. To lose anyone at all would break Steve’s heart, but Robin is his very best friend. What was it that she called him? Yeah, they’re platonic soulmates . She just… understands him. She didn’t look to him to be a savior, but she also believed in him. She came over all the time, sometimes with Max in tow, whether Steve expected them or not. They never let him deal with his anxiety alone. Robin went along with all his hairbrained schemes, and laughed with him when it all went to sh*t. Robin means the world to him. She’s so close to finding happiness, too, and he can’t bear to grapple with the thought that she may never get to live to see it. There’s so much more he wants to tell her, so much more for the two of them to do, so much more trouble to cause, so much more life to live.

Before long, everyone else is asleep, leaving Steve in the dark room, illuminated by the glow of the TV, lost deep in thought. He’s not really focused on anything, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Dustin is snoring to the right, Max muttering in her sleep somewhere to the left. He sighs, reassuring himself that, yes, he’s alive. He squashes any guilt that awakens in his gut, tries to steer his mind away from the image of Max’s shattered body in the hospital, the way she’d sobbed for an hour when she’d first awoken in her mangled body. He tries to forget the dead weight of Eddie’s limp body on his back as he’d frantically hauled him out of the Upside Down, and tries to forget hearing the news that it would be unlikely that he would wake up any sooner than six months. He tries to forget how small Robin had looked on the blackened ground when he found her, tries to forget how she reeked of iron, of blood, of smoke and nauseating injury the same way Max had, the same way Eddie had. Steve struggles to swallow the lump in his throat, looking first to Max, then to Robin, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault, that things wouldn’t have been better if it had been him instead.

Chapter 3: Memories Like Ghosts

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Robin still dreams of the ocean. It’s been a good long time since she’s seen it in person, but it still calls to her, even as it’s hundreds of miles away. Robin’s got a step aunt on her dad’s side who lives in Acapulco, but she hasn’t been there in years, at least since the winter of ‘83. She longs for that small house, it’s stucco a faded gold that glows like an evening star. Robin laments her want for their early morning trips to the beach, the way the water had rushed to her, spilled over her completely, entirely. She’d floated for hours in that primordial tea, happy to find her skin permanently waterlogged with the lifeblood of the sea. She misses the sprawling garden that engulfed the house, still remembers the youthful cheeks of hibiscus flowers, dahlias, lilies, all manner of green, growing things pressed against her when she dug into the dirt, letting her body imprint itself into the Earth. When she’s sick, her head throbbing, soul splitting from her soupy bones as her corporeal form fails her, her mind tends to root itself in that far away garden, still salty and sea-stained.

She’s there now, even though her eyes are open. Steve’s carrying her off to the guest room again, half asleep himself. She can’t help but notice how watery his eyes have been lately, and wonders what ocean his mind prays to. He walks like the sea. The way he sways, turning corners slowly, and never letting her hit the walls, keeps Robin’s diabolical headache quiet.

“Steve,” she mumbles, closing her eyes again. “We should take a vacation some day.”

“Where to?”

“The ocean.”

“Atlantic or Pacific?”

“Hmmmmm, Pacific. It’s warmer.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Steve sighs, turning sideways to fit them through the door to the guest bedroom.

“Really? But your parents are always traveling.”

“Yeah, and I’m never with them,” Steve says. He places Robin on the bed, sitting beside her. “And besides, they’re always going to places like Canada or New York. Maybe London, I know they did that last summer. But never anywhere very… beach-y.” Steve runs a shaky hand through his hair, and looks at the ground. Robin grabs the first part of him that she can reach, his elbow. She pinches it fondly, and lies back, staring at the ceiling.

“We’ll just have to fix that, then.”

“I could really use a break,” Steve mumbles, flicking Robin’s hand away. He seems a little less wilted, and smiles when she snatches at his arm again.

“We should open a hotel,” she says, Steve’s forearm back in her grasp.

“Really?”

“Umm, obviously. We’d be really good at it. And then everything is vacation.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Rob.”

“Sure it is! That’s why we need to open a hotel, so that things can be that way.” Steve shakes his head, copying Robin by pinching her elbow, and laughs.

“Better idea,” Robin continues. “Is that we should see if we can replace Keith as co-managers at the video store.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Better pay. We can hire the little kids if they want a job. We can cover the store in cardboard cutouts of Patrick Swayze and Phoebe Cate. We can play your corny music on the overhead all the time, and pick out whatever movies we want for the little display. I’d hire a better janitor, and give them proper pay, because you and I cleaning the place up is clearly not working. No one wants to buy things from a sticky store, obviously. We’d be such good managers, we could probably manage, like everything . Think of it, Steve! We could make it so we have every shift together, and only work when it’s, like, convenient. And imagine how we’ll hike up the profit margin. The stocks will do spectacularly, I’m sure we’ll bring in a new wave of investors.”

“Robin, we don’t have investors. I don’t think we even have stocks.”

“We might. I bet we do! And I bet Keith is ruining it for all of us! We could be Family Video business tycoons! We’ll have a worldwide franchise, maybe even produce our own movies. Oh my god. Steve. We should make movies ! I could be the writer, and you would make an awesome director. We just need to find you the perfect hat, and then-”

“Okay, that’s enough out of you. Good to see that you’re feeling a little better.”

“I don’t feel better. I feel like sh*t, Steve.”

“Alright, do you need me to get you something?”

“No, you just said I’m fine. I am fine. I’m actually great.”

“Robin, please, can we just-”

“Steveeee, I’m tired! Go away. Bring me water. And then go away. How much do you think it costs to fly to Hawaii? Steve, I need water. I’m fine, but water would make me even better.”

“Holy sh*t, okay, I’m going, jeez.” As Steve stands, Robin throws a good natured kick to the inside of his knee, laughing when Steve turns to glare at her. He huffs when he slams the door behind him, but Robin knows there’s not an ounce of malice in his being.

Seconds later, there’s a knock at the door.

“Do you have my water?”

“No,” It’s Nancy. Robin bites her knuckle, and grins. “But can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to swallow a laugh. Why is everything so funny to her? She should have Nancy turn off the lights when she comes in, she really doesn’t like how bright everything in the Harrington house is. She knows the lights help Steve feel less anxious, but respectfully, Robin will f*cking die if she sees another illuminated lightbulb. When she hears the door open, Robin sets off on talking right away.

“Nancy? I need you to turn off all the lights. Is that okay? I just… I can’t think. Steve’s house is too bright. I think there’s a lamp over in the corner there. You see it? Yeah, the switch is, like, hidden, but I need you to turn it out. Okay, maybe not that lamp. I don’t want you to trip in the dark. But every other light must be killed.”

“Okay, okay,” Nancy says. She’s clearly smiling, her voice a lilac, mediterranean blue. The aching, injured hues of her tone had faded away, but her hum was framed by a golden leaf of exhaustion. Her footsteps are slow and deliberate, methodically turning off all the lights but one. She comes to stand beside Robin’s head, kneeling down to be at eye level with the bed. Nancy’s arms fold themselves, and her chin comes to rest on top of them. Robin becomes acutely aware of how close they are to one another. She turns her head just a little, for if she moved too much, she was quite certain their noses would brush. Nancy is also in one of Steve’s old t-shirts, her face freshly washed, and her hair combed out. She looks vulnerable, infinitely more small, and Robin wants so badly to reach out and hold her. Unfortunately, for a multitude of reasons, she cannot. So, instead, she settles for lowering her voice, and saying,

“Hi there.” Nancy smiles, pushing her wild hair out of her eyes, and opens her mouth to say something. Robin studies her cupid’s bow with poorly hidden admiration, and finds very quickly that she just loves the soft droop of Nancy’s tired eyes. Before Nancy can say anything, though, Steve is knocking on the door.

“Robs, I got your water!” Nancy sighs, and Robin swallows down her disappointment. Her friend stands, walking to the door, taking the water from Steve. Robin calls out her thanks before Nancy is frowning at whatever Steve tells her, and before long, she shoos Steve out of the room. She plants her hand firmly in the center of his chest, pushing him out, cutting him off as he says,

“Good night, Robin, I’ll see you tomorr- ow! Hey, Nance, that’s not necessary-”

“Night, Steve,” Nancy growls, clearly flustered. Robin has no idea what’s wrong with those two, and opts to wave at Steve as he is forcefully dismissed. She hopes Steve wasn’t flirting with Nancy. No shade to Steve, she absolutely loved him, but Robin was already quite emotionally invested in Nancy. Sure, the other girl was probably straight, perhaps still had a boyfriend, and had only been proper friends with Robin for about three months, but she didn’t need Steve ruining her already nonexistent chances with this absolute angel.

Robin’s worry is quickly pushed out of her head by infatuation as Nancy comes to give her the glass of water, offering it to her slowly. Nancy was always mindful not to make a mess, and now was no exception. Robin’s left hand met the cold surface of the glass timidly, her cheeks growing pink when her shaky grip pushed her fingers to brush against Nancy’s. Was it normal to know what all your friends’ fingerprints looked like? Steve’s are neatly arched, smoothed over by calluses and wear, while Eddie’s have a plain, oddly symmetrical circular whorl. Robin has a left-leaning loop on both of her hands, except for her right thumb, which has arches just like Steve’s. But Nancy’s… Nancy’s fascinate Robin. She’s never really gotten to look very closely at them until now, noticing their pattern through the perspiring walls of the glass. Nancy’s fingers are stained with double loops that flow together like the intricate glasswork of cathedrals. They evoke the same nostalgia of winding creeks hidden under blushing willow switches, or the throaty rhythm of riptide currents under the glacen lashes of the sea. They are impossibly beautiful.

All too quickly, those fingers are tugged away, and Robin busies herself by bringing the glass of water up to her lips. She drinks nervously, hoping Nancy didn’t notice how quickly she became mesmerized.

“I left my car parked downtown, I think I’ll stay here with everyone tonight. I already called my mom and everything, so the cops shouldn’t end up busting down the door.” Robin humms, still draining her glass of water as her eyes relax. It feels like a great weight has been taken off of them, and they manage to inflate to their previous fullness. She feels all strange and floaty, hearing everything as if it’s right next to her ears as her eyes watch from far away. It’s hard for Robin to focus on Nancy, but she does her best. The shorter girl is pacing around the room, eyes never landing for very long on any one thing.

“Would it be alright if I stayed in here? You know, with you?” She’s wringing her porcelain hands, body still flighty. It does something to Robin, seeing her like this. Since the moment Robin met her, she’s known mean Nancy, and bitter Nancy, proud Nancy, frustrated Nancy, and murderous Nancy. She’s seen shy Nancy once, maybe twice, and has been recently made acquaintance to kind Nancy, and protective Nancy, but this? Truly bashful Nancy was completely new to her. Now, Robin felt completely out of it, vision foggy and her depth perception skewed, and she was quite certain that she had never been quite this tired in all her life, but the sight of Nancy, folded in on herself, looking to Robin for validation, had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Her stomach roiled with helium, making her feel light and giddy. Retrospectively, she would probably assume that Nancy just wanted to keep an eye on her, to make sure Robin didn’t get any worse while she slept. Or, perhaps the stress of the day gone by left her feeling anxious, unable to deal with being alone for the long night. Right now, though, all Robin could think about was that she was going to get to share a bed with Nancy Wheeler , and her chest feels like it’s going to explode.

“Of course you can stay here,” Robin drawls. “As long as you don’t kick me in your sleep or something.” Nancy’s face briefly betrays her relief before falling straight into defensiveness.

“I don’t kick. I sleep very still. In fact, Mike says I look like a corpse.” Nancy’s haughty pride is quickly dropped when she realizes how absurd it sounds.

“Just… don’t worry about me,” Nancy sighs, flopping down on the bed beside Robin. “And thanks, Robin, really. I just feel safer like this, you know?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, trying to swallow her excitement. Nancy rolls away from her for a moment, walking over to the one illuminated lamp, and quietly fumbles with it for a moment. She’s humming a little, but Robin hears it clearly enough, and knows right away that it’s Kate Bush. Robin had spotted the artist’s Never Forever tape in Nancy’s room a few months ago, but it didn’t surprise her that Nancy’s new interest in Bush’s work surrounded the track that saved Max’s life. Robin listened to it a lot, too, though she never does it around other people. It always makes her cry.

Finally, Nancy figures out the switch, and in a moment, the two are plunged into darkness. The throbbing behind Robin’s eyes nearly disappears, and her ears feel even more sensitive. She hears Nancy take four deliberate steps before pausing at the edge of the bed. She’s still humming, though it’s grown even fainter. Robin thinks she can hear Nancy’s heartbeat more clearly than the song, but still, its mournful tones still linger. Robin turns her head to the side, barely making out the shadowy figure of Nancy in the dark, but she does her best to reach out in her general direction. Even though it was the outcome she wanted, Robin still managed to be surprised when Nancy took her hand. She can feel her crawl onto the bed, the placement of her bodyweight uncertain and slow. Finally, Nancy finds her way under the covers beside Robin, their hands still joined.

“Goodnight, Robin,” Nancy murmurs.

“Night, Nance,” Robin sighs. She wishes she could sleep on her side, or on her stomach, but her ribs hurt too much. She has to settle for being immobilized on her back, unable to see Nancy beside her. The older girl shifts around for a while, dropping Robin’s hand, rolling away from her. Robin turns her head as best she can, trying to catch a glimpse of Nancy. Her heart aches, and she wants to reach for her, but Robin doesn’t know how Nancy will take it. She’s not sure how to deal with herself, so Robin does what she does best: she starts talking.

“Nance,” Robin whispers. Nancy only hums groggily in response. “You know how the Byers are moving back here in September? Yeah, and you know the one who looks like a stoned thirty year old?”

“Johnathan?” Nancy rolls over, facing Robin. The blond tilts her head again, barely meeting Nancy’s eyes. She can tell that she’s a little pissed, a frown twisting her features as she stares Robin down. “He doesn’t look like-”

“Yes he does, don’t try to deny it. Anyways, are you guys still dating?” Nancy’s frown deepens.

“I don’t really see how that’s any of your business.”

“Well, like, it could be my business.” Robin pokes at Nancy, who moves farther away from her. The brunette says nothing.

“Come on, Nance, don’t be like that. What happened to us officially being friends?” Still nothing. “You don’t have to talk about it if you really don’t want to, but you’ve kinda been in a funk lately, you know? You seem down, a little blue. I was just wondering if that ancient stoner had anything to do with it.”

“Robin,” Nancy groans. “He’s only seven months older than me, be nice.”

“No way that man is any younger than thirty-five. And you don’t deny that he’s totally a stoner.”

“Just let it be, please.”

“But Nancyyyy.” Robin swallows any of her pain, and shifts to her side. It burns, her chest and leg throbbing at the change in pressure, and she has to mess with her arm for a while to make sure it’s comfortable. Finally, she’s able to look at Nancy, her eyes having adjusted somewhat to the darkness. Nancy isn’t looking at her, instead squeezing her eyes shut as her body curls away from Robin.

“We broke up two weeks ago,” she hisses, eyes flying open. Even in the muted hues that dance in the thick of the witching hour, Nancy’s irises betray their brilliant blue that roils like a storm. They’re glossy, and Nancy’s voice sounds weak.

“Happy now?” she snipes before closing her eyes again.

“Are you?”

“Robin, please-”

“Are you happy Nance?” Again, silence veils them. Nancy’s eyes open again, and they search Robin’s gaze for her intent. Her exhales are forceful and hollow, leaving her petite frame shuddering as she searches for the right words. Her sclera are red around the edges, and her lower lip trembles.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, Nance, please don’t be like this,” Robin says. Regret starts to boil in her ribs, and she takes one of Nancy’s hands in her own. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to push, I just…”

“Just what?” Nancy bites out.

“I wanted to know if you were okay.” Robin works valiantly to swallow the lump forming in her throat, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear them of her self pitying sorrow. There’s chills wracking her body, and Robin feels so impossibly weak. Her gaze choses to fix itself on the pillow she’s mushed her head into, shame burning at her ears. Probably not the best way to check in on Nancy. Sometimes, Robin isn’t really as funny as she thinks she is. She chews on the inside of her cheek, even as it sparks cold veins of pain in her head. Nancy heaves a sigh in front of her, the tension of her body dripping away. She briefly readjusts herself, pulling the two of them closer.

“I will be,” she says, voice raw and tender. She says it like she’s showing a fresh wound. “Happier, I mean. I don’t really get to be that upset about it, seeing that I’m the one who broke up with him and all. But it’s hard for me. Change is scary.”

“And everything just keeps changing so fast,” Robin says, daring to look at Nancy again. They’re so much closer now. At most, there’s maybe five inches between their faces, and Nancy’s starry eyes look massive. Robin does her best to keep her breath even, trying to slow her heart rate before the damn thing just beats out of her chest.

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees. Her eyes dance across the plains of Robin’s face, like she’s searching for something. What Robin doesn’t know is that Nancy is enamored with the way her freckles spill over her face, a most brilliant map of the stars. She will never know the way that Nancy traces the sharp angles of Robin’s cupid's bow, squashing down the sadness in her gut. She doesn’t know the way Nancy’s mind fights with itself, doesn’t know the way she worries over how quickly she’s fallen for the rambling blond. All Robin does know is that she likes the weight of Nancy’s gaze on her, finds it comforting, refreshing.

Robin’s soul settles back into her body, relishing the momentary comfort of the present. Outside the windows, the cicadas drone on, singing of endless waves of heat and sickly summer sweetness, lulling in alongside the steady whisper of Nancy’s breath. As the Earth whispers its shaky promises in Robin’s weary ears, she lets her eyes fall closed for the final time that night. Out of the darkness, she thinks she can hear Nancy start humming again.

—

Robin was walking past the highschool with quick, heavy steps. Her eyes burned from the ash in the air, her hands repeatedly coming up to rub them. She felt anxious, weary. School had been out since spring break, the district panicking as they tried to figure out a way to get the seniors to take their tests and graduate them as quickly as possible. Robin considered herself a pretty successful academic, but at that moment, there were bigger things to worry about. She could see the red glow of another split in the ground throbbing a block away, and she worked towards it quickly. It was exhausting work, saving the world, and she couldn’t wait to be asleep in her own bed that night. The speed of her steps was thanks to two things, one of which being an urgency after what happened two nights ago.

It had been late, very late when Steve called her. His voice had been shaky, urgently telling her of the rattling of the Earth, the way the splits had yawned wider. They had gargled, spewing alien sin through clouds of ash into the already wounded sky, and the black clouds had swirled with intentional malevolence. Steve couldn’t explain why, or how, he knew, but he swore that something had entered Hawkins. Something worse.

That was what drove them all out to the town on that night. Robin glanced at the sky above her, taking note of the indigo lightning that stalked her from above, and picked up her pace. She walked quickly, far, far away from the others because of a fear. Fear that Nancy had noticed the drawings on her converse, or the writing in the margins of her new Stephen King novel when she had visited Robin days ago. Fear that Nancy knew why she thought Arletty was such an incredible actress, why she loved her work so much, or understood why she and Steve watched Fast Times so much. Fear that Nancy noticed the way that Robin looked at her, spoke to her, thought about her.

That fear drove her more than her fear of interdimensional monsters, more than her fear of angry old men with god complexes hiding in the Upside Down, more than her fear of Hawkins being swallowed whole. Robin couldn’t stand it. So, when they all piled out of the car, Robin had hardly waited to hear of a plan, opting instead to pull her red beret low on her head, snatching a walkie-talkie, just in case, before darting away.

Robin pulled herself from her thoughts, stopping her feet at the last moment. She had just crossed the street into Lincoln Park, her shoes settling in blackened, scarred ground. Red light poured from the fresh split, surrounded by oozing tendrils and split concrete. The police hadn’t even had time to close this one off, and it was left barren, opne, bloody. Laying in the once peaceful entrance of the park, the ravine looked like an infected wound, throbbing with a vengeance.

Robin sighed, hand drifting to her pocket to fiddle with the cool texture of her engraved lighter as she tried to resolve herself. She coughed on the noxious air, rubbing once more at her eyes before starting to follow the split north.

Robin only made it to the other end of the park before pausing. It was getting late, and the sun had just gone down. She grabbed her walkie-talkie, staring at it for a moment as she thought. On one hand, she should probably let her party know where she had gone, but on the other, it wasn’t like anything was happening. She wouldn’t want them to worry. Besides, since it was getting so late, she may as well have just turned around there to head back to everyone. She started to cross the street, moving to walk down one of the cramped alleyways in the interest of saving time, before a sound caught her attention. It was low, guttural, and hungry. The hair on the back of Robin’s neck stood up, and adrenaline fizzed down her spine. In the low light, Robin whipped around, only to be greeted with the sight of empty asphalt. She hummed, perking her ears to make sure she wasn’t going crazy, before continuing on her path. She took one slow step forward, and then another, moving cautiously. Again, the noise started, like the twisting of a stomach, rattling like starved thunder. When Robin stopped this time, the noise persisted. It rattled about inside the dumpster just up ahead of her, and left her digging through her pocket for a switch blade. It had been a gift from Max, once belonging to Billy before she decided it would have better uses in the hands of a living person. Robin, being predictably forgetful, had left the damn thing at home. Her stomach sank, but her curiosity urged her onward.

Her steps scraped over the crumbling pavement until Robin stood just in front of the dumpster. Inside, something squelched wetly, coiling like a half-drained heart. It contracted again and again, rhythmically, steadily. It grew exponentially louder as Robin drew closer, listening keenly to its screeching, its decaying, its unearthly movement.

Robin stopped, just a foot away from the dumpster.

Lightening cracked overhead, and the metallic noise cut itself into an abrupt silence.

Her own breath echoed through her ears, her heart nearly stopping.

It had started to rain. Robin tilted her head back to the sky, looking to it for guidance. It offered her none. As soon as her eyes drew away from the dumpster, a voice echoed from within. It grated against her ears like slivers of glass, and she nearly jumped out of her own skin. She listened closer, and realized it was not one voice, no; it was the throaty chant of hundreds of voices stitched together as one.

“Youuuuuuu,” the voices seethed. “Youuuuuuu.” Whatever was inside banged itself against the top of the dumpster, and Robin jumped out of her body. She urged her feet to turn, her eyes to look away, but she was paralysed. As the sky set into place a lazy, frigid drizzle, the dumpster banged again, and again, and again. Robin felt sick, and could hear it as the voices screeched, gagged, and threw themselves at the lid of the dumpster once more.

Lightening reigned over the blackened alleyway, illuminating the beast as it burst from its metal prison. They were rats, melted and tangled together in an oozing, unreal form that remained neither liquid or solid for very long. The Rat King stared at Robin with its many hundred eyes, spluttering with a damp cackle while Robin’s eyes widened. She could not move. She could not run. She could not scream.

“Youuuuuuuuu,” the beast hissed, concentrating its menagerie of bones and flesh in her direction. For a moment, it swayed almost imperceptibly, examining her, inspecting her, before it froze. Robin’s breath rattled out of her body with a foreign urgency, and suddenly, she could feel her feet again. The Rat King lunged at her, limbs and extremities launched at her from any odd angle conceivable, and only just in time, Robin was able to leap back. She turned on her heel, sprinting away as fast as her feet could carry her. The Rat King roiled after her, falling over itself in hundreds of semi-joined bodies that screamed behind her, almost unsure of what to do with itself. Robin’s vision grew foggy, with only a pinprick of clarity offered to her as she ran. Her feet splashed through the streets, turning left, right, left again, changing her direction as best she could as she rounded corners. Even though it was a bumbling mess, the Rat King pursued her, tails and pelts dragging behind it as it followed. Robin screamed, taking a sharp left onto Randolph Way, her legs burning, threatening to give out. She pushed herself as hard as she could, her lungs begging to stop, stuttering in her chest as Robin sprinted. She could hear it behind her, oozing and splashing and throbbing. It caught on her ankles once, twice, cutting into her skin with searing, messy attacks until another spill of adrenalin pushed Robin even faster. Never in her life had Robin moved so quickly.

The flat street began to arch into a hill, and at the top, Robin could make out the shape of a metal fence. She ran as fast as she could, feet pounding mercilessly into the ground as she tried to make some distance between herself and the monster. The fence grew closer as Robin pushed herself harder, and before she knew it, she was leaping towards it, eyes squeezed closed as she prayed to anything that would listen to her. By some mercy of the universe, Robin cleared the fence. She crashed into the ground, righting herself as quickly as she could, before throwing a look over her shoulder as she kept moving. The beast pushed its solid form against the wire, groaning, screaming after her.

“We know what you areeeeeee,” it hissed as Robin took in her surroundings. She knew she didn’t have long until that thing figured a way out to get to her, so she had to act fast. “She knows what you areeeee!” Robin looked around, realizing that she was at the dump. f*ck, there had to be something there that could help her, but she needed to be fast. She ran past the heap of tires and around to the cars, searching for propane, vodka, gasoline, anything flammable.

“Robinnnnnn!” The thing screamed behind her. sh*t. She ran past the cars, looking behind all of them, finding no such luck. She sprinted about, searching fruitlessly. From behind an old oil drum, she caught sight of the creature as it began to change. First, it assumed a messy, fleshy, oozing image of her mother, her face decorated with many, many eyes. Her “mother’s” face twisted in horror, pointing to her as it screamed,

“I know what you areeee! We don’t want youuuuu, devil child.” It changed rapidly after that. First, it took the shape of her father, screaming and brandishing his fist, before morphing into Steve. This version of Steve bubbled beneath his skin, eyes traveling in the soup of flesh upon its “face.”

“You’re a poisonnnn!” It roared, shaking the fence again. “All you’ve done is hurt! You’re sick, sick, sick, you don’t even want the cureeeee!” Then it split into pieces, tearing Steve’s likeness in half, before changing into a mangled depiction of Max. It boiled, twisted, screamed, and split. The ooze settled itself onto the ground, before rising again, this time in Nancy’s shape. Its face was void of any expression, but the eyes splattered across its face.

“Robin,” it cried, sounding more like Nancy than Robin would have hoped. It pulled at something inside of her, and Robin could feel herself crying. “Robin, you swear you won’t hurt me? You won’t come after me, will you? I’m scared, Robin. I’m so scared. I know what you are. I know what you think, I know you. We know you. We know what you areeeeee.” The figure of Nancy shakes the fence again, and Robin stands bolt upright. She’s desperately scrambling backwards, but Robin can’t look away. The figure’s face contorts.

“Robin, help me. Help meee. Help meeeeeeee!” Robin is surrounded by the creature’s mockery of sobbing, her head throbbing. The thing, it opens itself up and screams, nearly shattering her head. Her back slams into something solid, something metal. Robin yelps, turning her head to find an old, greenish school bus. As the figure shakes the fence again, thunder booms overhead, and the rain continues its downpour with a vengeance. Desperate to save herself, Robin climbs into the school bus. She forces the doors shut behind her, the inside of the thing rattling its metal skeleton against the barrage of the rain. The beast screams again, louder than ever. Robin can feel her eyes straining, dilating to the low light. In the back, she spots something. She races over, falling to her knees in disbelief. She can’t believe her luck. Someone had stashed high profile fuel tanks in the back of the bus. Robin thanked her lucky stars, and began shaking them. The first one was empty, horrifyingly light.

“Come on, f*ck. Please!” Robin was shaking, crying, her hands fumbling around in the dark as she lifted one empty canister after another. “f*ck!” When Robin looks out the window, she sees the form of Nancy melting, contorting, blistering, before falling into a puddle on the ground. The Rat King had figured it out. It let its liquid form pass through the slots in the fence, leaving behind a trail of larger bones before spilling over into the ground of the dump. Robin was so officially f*cked. Canister after canister was thrown from her hands in vain, and Robin felt true terror creep into her spine. She wasn’t going to make it out alive. This extension of Vecna was going to get through to Hawkins, kill her family, kill her friends, and open hell forever into Hawkins. Her vision grew blurry, her eyes overtaken by tears, and Robin felt an anguished scream push its way past her throat.

The bus was fully shaken as the creature tried to force its way into the doors. It slammed into them only once before it melted down again, shoving through the cracks in the old, rusted metal. This really was the end for Robin. The Rat King flooded in, and was upon Robin in seconds. She tried to stand to shake it off, but it fully engulfed her. Any of the finer bones that remained in it were immediately dug into Robin’s flesh, ripping into her without mercy. It was wet, hot, pressing against her like blisters before ripping away from her. Robin felt light headed, her vision starting to grow black. It wrapped around her throat, squeezing as she yelped. Her back arched, and Robin fought against it with all her might. It wasn’t enough.

Everything started to sound far away, and she could feel as her body was lifted from the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, shame hot on her ears, when the thing threw her to the ground. Robin gasped for breath, a headrush overtaking her brain. She could hear the voices taunting her, roaring in her ears as it fed on her. Vecna really was an evil f*cking bastard. The Rat King drew back from her, solidifying once again. Robin started to get her vision back, seeing just clearly enough to watch as it turned the jumble of flesh back into Nancy’s shape again, lording her figure over Robin as the thousand rat voices screamed into the enclosed space. Robin curled into herself, unable to watch any longer, eyes darting across the floor of the bus.

Finally, her eyes caught on something. Under one of the seats that had been behind her was a single canister of gasoline. f*ck, this had to work. The creature was slow to take Nancy’s form, the distinct trill of Vecna’s voice bleeding from the body. It distracted itself with its pride, rambling something about being more than human, greater than human. Robin couldn’t bring herself to give a sh*t. As the Rat King took its time reforming itself, trying to impart upon her its message, Robin reached out, grabbing the mercifully heavy tank in her trembling hands, slamming the beast in the “head.” It stopped in the middle of its transformation, screaming, splitting onto the ground. It oozed back into shapelessness, unable to recollect itself. Robin seized the opportunity as soon as it presented itself, throwing herself out of the back emergency door, which she promptly slammed shut behind herself. She crumpled on the ground, rolling her ankle, and becoming distinctly aware of the feeling of blood sliding down her face. She couldn’t worry about that now, though. The bus wouldn’t hold the Rat King for long, and she had to hurry. Robin suppressed her limp as well as she could, scrambling to the other end of the dump. A massive mountain of tires stood before her, and Robin didn’t hesitate to begin her ascent. She scrambled up the dilapidated rubber, slipping once or twice in the rain. At last, she reached the top, fumbling to get the top off the gas tank as the monster exploded from the back of the bus. It hadn’t dematerialized this time. No, it had pushed out the metal with its sheer strength of force. Robin nearly vomited.

Her hands shook in the rain, failing over and over again to undo the top of the tank.

“f*ck, come on!” she screamed. Robin was so, so close to getting out of this. She just had to unscrew this f*cking tank, and she might live. She continued to swear, shaky hands working away at the cap as the Rat King started to boil up at the base of the tire mound. It slithered up to her, growing weak, lethargic, but ever deadly. They were quite far from the splits at this point, and it was probably losing connection with its host. As Robin continued to fail to open the tank, the beast began to wrap around her ankles. She clutched tightly to the canister, screaming.

“No, no, put me down you stupid f*ck! Go die in a hole- no!” The Rat King dragged her down, scraping her along the tires. Robin did not surrender, kicking at it as best she could as she tried to unscrew the f*cking tank.

It was too late.

The monster flung her into the side of the bus, crushing her left shoulder. Again, this time sending shooting pain up her left leg. It berated her over and over again, leaving Robin a trembling pulp. Another scream was torn from her lungs as her head was thrown into the bus, leaving her ears ringing. The world started to grow black, the gas tank in her hands draining out into the creature that held her. Wait. Draining? Even in her hazy state of mind, Robin let out a cackle that rasped past her aching throat, dripping with venom. When the Rat King moved to slam her into the bus again, Robin wriggled an arm free, reaching for the old lighter in her pocket. It was a gift from Steve, something they’d found at a garage sale and bought for sh*ts and giggles. It was checkered alabaster and onyx, glimmering in the rain. Robin’s face twisted into a bitter grin, clicking the lighter once, then twice, before shoving it into the beast. It dropped her and her lighter for just a moment, leaving her reclined against the wheel of the bus, watching as it recoiled in pain. Robin immediately grabbed her lighter again, noticing that the canister was still emptying itself into the mess of flesh before her. The Rat King screamed into the night, struggling to keep itself contained. Robin didn’t give it the time to reform itself, though. She lit her lighter one last time, praying to the wrathful universe as she flung her precious gift, blazing with a weak fire, towards the beast.

Oh, the universe must have favored her, because as soon as the lighter made contact with the monster, it exploded into flames. The noise it made was so horrifying, Robin’s ears failed to comprehend it. She folded her hands over her head, tears streaming down her face in pain as the Rat King roared. Her vision whited out as the creature glowed, burning her skin and lighting the ground on fire. The rain began to weaken, though the thunder did not. All the world boomed around her as the beast fell to the ground, reduced to a smoldering puddle that no longer had the strength to fight. Its host abandoned it, leaving it rotting, bubbling in the cursed earth on which it had lost. Robin was immediately hit with a faceful of putrid smoke, and felt herself begin to black out.

—

Robin awakens, screaming. She can almost feel the scrapes fresh on her body, taste the horrendous smoke, can almost hear the demon voices of the rats as they cursed her.

“Nancy,” she cries, eyes foggy with tears in the dark. “Nancy!” Robin screams again, trying to escape her body, wriggle out of her flesh. There's already an arm draped around her hip, and she can feel the other girl awaken, frantically trying to understand what's going on.

“Robin, Robin, breathe for me, you’re here with me. You’re going to be safe, I promise." Nancy's fingers rest briefly on the back of Robin's head, and she can feel as Nancy's breath grows short, her anxiety becoming heightened. "Robin, please, you’re scaring me!” Robin breaks down sobbing.

“I’m sorry Nancy, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I swear- I’ll never-” Another sob is torn from her chest, and Nancy’s arms wind around her middle. She’s so gentle, holding as tight as she can without hurting Robin, whispering away to her.

“You’re safe Robin, you’re safe. Nothing can get you now. I’m here for you. You’re going to be okay. We’re all here for you.”

“I remember, Nancy,” Robin sobs. “I don’t want to remember. I can’t! It’s too much, f*ck!”

“Robs, it’s going to be okay. I’m here. You’re here. We’re going to be alright. Just breathe with me, sweetheart, please.” But Robin can’t breathe. Her chest is tight, her vision blacking out, her head light.

“Robin, look at me.” Nancy takes one of her hands to cradle Robin’s jaw line, brushing their noses together as she tries to soothe her. “Breathe with me, Rob, breathe.” Sobbing causes Robin so much pain, so she focuses on holding Nancy as tight as she can, desperately squashing the dread in her stomach. She wants the Rat King to be wrong, wants to know that Nancy won’t hate her, won’t fear her, but it’s hard.

“You’re doing good, Robin,” comes the angelic, indigo voice of her friend. “There you go, you’ve got it. Just keep breathing. You’re going to be alright.” So Robin breathes. She shoves her face into Nancy’s neck, unable to have her look at her while she looks like this, gasping. She tries to match her rhythm to Nancy’s until her vision clears up, her body shuddering occasionally. She realizes that Nancy’s fingers are playing at the hem of her shirt, drawing lazy patterns in Robin’s skin as she tries to calm her down.

“It’s alright, Robin,” she says one more time. “We’re here for you, and we love you no matter what.”

Chapter 4: The Never Ending Headache

Chapter Text

Robin can’t bring herself to fall back asleep for a long, long time after that. Instead, she lays awake, leaning against Nancy’s chest, counting her breaths while the older girl sleeps. After Robin had quelled her panic, Nancy’s fingers running through her hair and over her shoulders, she had refused to let go of her friend, the two of them entangled as they started to doze off. Both worried about the consequences that they may have to deal with if they separated, so instead, Nancy had pulled Robin close to her, practically on top of her, still whispering to her until they were settled. She didn’t seem to mind the fact that Robin, who was much taller than her, was nearly smothering her. In fact, she gave Robin a goofy smile once the room started to feel too quiet, giggling for no reason at all. She had let her forehead fall onto the blond’s, both of them laughing over nothing. Robin really likes this side of Nancy.

Nancy had fallen asleep maybe ten minutes ago, her humming and whispering melting away into steady breathing that puffed evenly against the top of Robin’s head. Even unconscious, the brunette clung to her with determination, hands wrapped just below Robin’s shoulder blades. Robin tries to stay as still as she can, trying to burn this memory permanently into her brain. She had never been very good at staying still, especially when she was younger, but right now, Robin felt nearly liquid, pooling evenly around the small circumference of Nancy’s waist, melting together.

As a child, Robin’s grandmother had brought her to Christmas and Easter masses, during which she spent the entire time tying and retying her shoes, taking her gloves on and off and then putting them back on, standing up in the pews, spinning around, hanging upside down, braiding her hair, braiding her cousin’s hair, braiding her cousin’s friends’ hair, and fatally, one time, doodling in the margins of a bible. That had ended poorly for her. That night, she made herself known as the devil child, and was no longer brought to the church on holidays. Robin was proud of herself, having wormed out of a rather obnoxious obligation, but nevertheless, it served as a constant reminder of her overactive spirit. She has never known calm like that which resides only in the cradle of Nancy’s arms. Nancy’s skin is unfairly smooth and soft, if not a little cold, and helps to keep Robin from dissociating, or spiraling into her thoughts for too long.

One thing that Robin has never previously had the chance to observe is that Nancy Wheeler smells f*cking great . Even though she’s clad in Steve’s dorky band t-shirt, a pair of boyshorts, and is rather unwashed thanks to their rather eventful evening, she’s still perfect. She smells like petrichor and smoked sweetgrass, peppered with the smell of clean cotton, biting mint, and a little sweat. On every inhale that Robin indulges in, she feels like her brain is dousing itself in oxytocin, pushing her to hold tighter to Nancy, press her nose as gently as she can into her sternum, and preserve this almost religious moment. See, the other thing that Robin learned about herself in her ability to expertly blow off church events was that she struggled with any sort of spirituality. The world seemed to have way too much fun beating the absolute sh*t out of her at inopportune times, so she struggled to ever see how a benevolent god could be watching out for her.

That all was, of course, before she became friends with Nancy Wheeler. Jesus, she still dreams about the raw, feminine power that Nancy’s body had exuded as they had marched into the Upside Down, completely unphased by the beasts of hell at her heels, the way she had pushed Vecna up against a wall, blasting him beyond repair, until eventually, he’d been thrown out of the attic. She is still mesmerized by the memory of Nancy slicing through vines and kicking over the corpses of monsters to reach Eddie, the way she had herded everyone out, alive , jaw still firmly set, arms twitching whenever anything moved. Speaking of- Robin tilts her head up just enough to see Nancy’s jaw line. In the dark, Nancy’s skin is splattered with a blue overlay, making her features smooth and even. Even so, her jaw still cuts cleanly through the dark. Robin realizes that she’s staring, immediately moving back to the way she had been, cheeks burning. Now is not the time to obsess over how unfairly hot her friend was.

So, Robin squeezes her eyes shut, desperately trying to find sleep before she starts to think about how absolutely awesome it is to have this kind of skin-to-skin contact, how impossibly grateful she is to have someone else’s body pressed so close to her's, especially when it’s Nancy Wheeler, or worse, start thinking about what the morning is going to be like. She goes back to counting Nancy’s breaths, and hopes it’s enough.

—

It is.

Robin finds herself floating in the ocean, splayed starfish on the slow rolling of the waves, breath full and heavy. Everything smells like Nancy. This is fan-f*ckin-tastic. In the distance, she thinks she can hear her aunt talking about the incoming tide, distantly registers that Steve is rambling about Christmas cookies, and that he thinks spider crabs are unfairly too big. Another wave crests, and her stomach swoops, raucous laughter pulled from her lips as the wind skirts over her face. The sun is bright, the sky is cartoonishly blue, and all the Earth seems to turn in her favor. Robin’s smile is so wide, her cheeks ache, heart swelling in her chest.

And then she’s in the garden surrounding her house, and she feels like she’s thirteen all over again. Nancy’s there with her, her hair straight and falling around her face in honied curtains, fluttering in the breeze. They’re close, their hands joined between them as they wander aimlessly through Eden, Robin’s affections reverent when she presses her lips to Nancy’s cool cheek.

Then she’s back on the beach, playing soccer against Steve, and losing. So, she pops the ball, watching it deflate smugly before running back into the water, laughing as she outruns her friend.

And then she’s sitting at the edge of Lincoln Park, holding Max close to her as they watch… her? Robin can see herself running from the Rat King all over again, and feels rooted to the spot. In the dream, Max has no eyes, but turns her face towards Robin, whispering,

“I’m so sorry.”

Then, she’s at the school dance, trying to adjust her bowtie in the side mirror of her mom’s car, brushing her hair out of her eyes before eventually giving up. In real life, she never did go to the dance. Now, though, she marches out of the car, joining arms with Eddie Munson of all people, who had his head completely shaved. Odd.

Now she sees herself, watching herself in an out of body experience as she climbs out of the portal in Eddie’s trailer, falling onto her back on the nasty ass mattress, the ground giving out from underneath her. Dream-her screams.

Then she’s dressed like Marty McFly, trying to pull the hood ornament off of a semi truck that’s actively driving.

And then she’s in the woods behind the quarry, pulling Nancy towards her favorite ledge to jump from, laughing. They’re in matching swimsuits, with Nancy’s hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Nancy is too scared to jump, even as Robin tries to tell her that it’ll be fun. She can’t seem to convince her, so she sits down, dangling her legs off into the air, sighing. Nancy is beside her in a second, leaning her head on Robin’s shoulder, grabbing her hand again. Robin wraps an arm around Nancy’s waist, squeezing gently at the exposed skin there. It’s night time, but Nancy is very literally glowing. Robin looks to her as her guiding star, tangled with her in the dark. They breathe as one, staring down into the Pluto-blue water below them. She turns her head to face Nancy, who’s already looking at her. Her electric eyes glitter in the dark, leaving Robin feeling all warm and fuzzy. One of Nancy’s hands holds her cheek, eyes darting between Robin’s gaze and her lips.

Robin grins at her, closing her eyes, leaning closer, closer, until-

—

Robin wakes up. She’s not very happy about it. No, not at all. The sun looks like it’s only just come up, the birds outside rejoicing in its return in an audacious zeal. Nancy is still asleep, and still holding onto Robin’s sore body. She moves her head just a little, catching sight of the alarm clock on the bedside table. Faintly, she makes out that it reads 6:04, and she growls to herself. Robin really hopes that concussions don’t f*ck up one’s sleep schedule. She really wishes she could just go back and finish her dream, but she knows that’s not how this works. So, she heaves a deep sigh, relishing Nancy’s omnipresent scent, and tries to rest, even if she can’t sleep.

—

Nancy wakes up slowly. Sure, her eyes fly open, but it takes a while for the rest of her body to respond. The sense of touch is always slow to come to her, but when it does, she realizes how warm she is. Robin heaves a sigh from within her hold, creating a firm pressure with her body against her sternum that has Nancy’s cheeks growing warm. Robin’s very clearly awake, eyes fixed on the walls beside them, her body almost completely still. Nancy’s never seen her so serene. Normally, when they’re volunteering together at the high school to help provide relief and aid, Robin is talking and moving around non-stop, always making something, or organizing boxes, or talking to someone, or scrambling away to get sh*t done. It’s like she never takes a break.

It warms Nancy’s heart to see her so relaxed, melting into the mattress without a care, her hair all tousled and her breath slow. Her appreciation of the moment is only increased as she remembers last night. Robin had told her… everything. And it all sounded simply horrible. Now, Nancy doesn’t consider herself a particularly violent or aggressive person, but if she ever sees Vecna again, she’s totally going to rip out his eyeballs and shove them down his throat. That bastard, she’ll kill him. She’ll really do it this next time.

Nancy sucks in a heavy breath, moving one of her hands to rest at the base of Robin’s skull. The tips of her fingers bury in, resting against her scalp, and Robin’s head turns. Their eyes meet, and Nancy musters the best smile that she can. She tilts her head to the side, feeling her hair splay around her head, and yawns. She slept well, but she’s still exhausted.

“How long have you been awake?” she asks. Robin shrugs.

“Almost two hours.”

“Two hours? Jesus, okay, sorry. We should get up.” Nancy says this firmly, truly believing it for a moment, but Robin makes no effort to move, and neither does she. Robin simply turns her head so her chin rests on the lowest rack of Nancy’s ribs, and she sighs, going back to staring at the walls.

“Are you feeling any better?” Nancy’s fingers trace circles on her neck, proud of the way she makes Robin melt. Some part of her does feel guilty, like she’s taking advantage of the other girl’s vulnerability to be close to her, and that as soon as Robin starts to feel better, all of this will be forgotten. She wonders if she even deserves to be the one holding her at a time like this, because Nancy’s never been very good at saving anyone. Eddie is in the hospital, Max is struggling to adjust to her new disabilities, and Barb is… gone. Forever. Nancy hadn’t been able to stop Steve from being dragged into the lake, hadn’t been able to protect him from the bats, hadn’t been there for her brother when he was shot at by the government, hadn’t been able to pull Robin from the vines of the Creel house. She’d let this happen to Robin, and she despises herself for it.

“Yeah,” Robin sighs, pulling Nancy from her thoughts. “Things don’t hurt as much, but nothing’s quite how it used to be.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Robin grins. She tries to sit up, pushing the blankets away from her body as she moves upright, but she tips over quickly. Nancy scooches closer, furrowing her brow. Robin’s face is pale, veins pushing close to the thin skin under her eyes. Nancy bites her lip when she feels her heart skip a beat, swallowing down the giddiness in her throat. She’s just… excited to have a friend, and worried that her friend might not be okay.

“You okay, Robin?”

“Eh, I mean, all things considered, I’d say I’m killing it.” Robin grins, tries to laugh, but there’s something not right. Nancy’s frown deepens.

“Do you want to go to the kitchen, or do you want me to bring you something here?”

“Oh, I’ll go to the kitchen. Wouldn’t want anyone worrying about poor little me.” Robin tries to sit up again, propping her upper body up with her arms, giving herself a moment to breathe. She closes her eyes, and Nancy sees her sway a little. She puts a hand between Robin’s shoulders, and justifies it to herself by thinking it’s just to keep her from falling over again.

“Thanks, Nance,” she sighs, tilting her head back as her breathing evened out. Her eyes open shakily, immediately finding Nancy, blazing like star-burnt opals. She grins a sloppy, lopsided grin that boils something in Nancy’s chest into pushing against her ribs. She silences it quickly, eyes darting from Robin’s face. This is getting to be too much for her.

“Come on,” she says, offering her hand. “Let’s get you something to eat before you pass out again. I’ll call a doctor and see if we can get you looked at.”

“Awww, but Nancy, I hate doctors.”

“But you need one.”

“Nah, I’m fine. You fixed me up plenty good!”

“Robin,” Nancy sighs, looking up at her through her lashes as Robin leans her weight on Nancy’s shoulders. “You can hardly stand on your own. We need to make sure that nothing’s broken, or that you don’t have any bleeding in your brain.”

“I- fine…” she mumbles, letting herself be guided by Nancy’s firm hand.

—

As soon as they enter the kitchen, Steve’s setting down a cup of coffee as he races over to them, pulling Robin into his arms. She smiles, reaching a hand up to pat his wild hair before trying to wiggle away from him.

“Steve,” she laughs. “You’re suffocating me. I can’t hug you if I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not loosening his grip. Robin catches Nancy’s eye, and beams. Nancy tries to smile back, and squashes the envy that nibbles at her heart. Robin is only released when El shuffles into the room, Dustin coming in a few moments after her, the two leaning on one another as Dustin complains about his hunger.

“Steveeee,” Dustin says around a yawn. “We’re hungry. We’re growing children, and thus need nourishment to be sustained.”

“Yeah,” El says, rubbing her eyes. “Nourish us.”

“Aren’t you going to say ‘please?’” Nancy tuts, happy to have something to distract herself with.

“Please,” the two call in an exaggerated chorus as Nancy starts digging through the fridge. Steve and Robin are speaking animatedly behind her, grating on her nerves. She whirls around, hands on her hips.

“You two really should keep it down,” she hisses. Robin looks confused, but shrugs it off, and lowers her voice just a little. Steve does not change his volume. Nancy huffs, and turns back to the fridge. Everyone else filters into the living room, sitting down while Steve fiddles with the radio, trying to find something to fill the silence. Nancy is left alone, rooting around in the fridge. Steve’s got a few six packs, an oddly large amount of lettuce, milk, green peppers, deli meats and cheese, plenty of normal things, but no eggs. She huffs. Nancy wanders to the pantry, trying to find some toast, maybe a bagel, but no, there’s absolutely nothing. Now she’s really getting pissed. Nancy is about to turn around, head to the living room, and get Steve to find her something to make up for breakfast, but she catches movement from out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey,” Max says, and Nancy nearly jumps out of her own skin.

“Oh my god, how did you sneak up on me like that?” Max shrugs, and tosses a braid behind herself. Unlike everyone else, she’s dressed in a fresh change of clothes, her skin smooth and even, her hair laying in two symmetrical braids down her shoulders. It’s odd, but Nancy doesn’t question it.

“Are you looking for food?” Max asks, already pushing into the pantry.

“Yeah,” Nancy sighs, running a hand over her face. She can feel a headache starting to pulse in her skull. “I have no idea where Steve stashes his bread.” Max humms, rooting around for a moment, before she turns around. In one hand, she’s holding a fresh bag of bagels, and the other arm awkwardly cradles a loaf of bread, not able to get much of a good grip on it because of her cast.

“How did you- ?”

“Do you want cereal? We just bought some salmon locks, too, because Steve is a fancy boy. I’ll go find you the toaster.” Max pushes the bags into Nancy’s hand, heading past her to one of the cabinets.

“He keeps all the appliances under here because he likes to keep the counters clean.” She manages to find a toaster, setting it up triumphantly, plugging it in. Then, she’s off to the fridge, turning around a moment later with eggs, cream cheese, salmon, and a carton of orange juice. She sets them on the counter, hardly registering Nancy’s surprise. Max holds the orange juice carton close to her body with her left arm, using her good hand to unscrew the top. The cap clatters onto the counter, and Max holds up the jug, drinking straight out of it. Nancy feels her jaw drop.

“Max, that’s gross, put that away!”

“Why?” Max wipes her upper lip self consciously, swirling the orange juice around as she looks Nancy up and down. “It’s my carton.” Then, she downs the rest of it, rinsing the carton out before heading off to find Steve’s recycling bin. Nancy’s eyes grow wide.

“Max,” she says softly as the younger girl comes to lean on the counter beside her. “Do you live here?”

“Umm, kinda,” Max says like it’s nothing. She opens another cabinet, fishing out a fresh dishcloth from a different cabinet. She sets it in the sink, and loads the plates left there from last night’s dinner.

“But I picked you up from the trailer park yesterday. How did- ?”

“Oh, yeah,” Max says, closing up the dishwasher. “I had to go back for a couple of days. Steve’s parents were coming home, and I didn’t want my mom to worry.”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Max turns to scowl at her.

“I don’t know. It’s not that big of a deal. Why?”

“Because it is a big deal, Max,” Nancy sighs, rubbing at her temples. “I mean, are you okay? How did you get him to agree to this? Is your mom okay? Is your home life safe?”

“Ugh, Nancy,” Max slouches. “Of course I’m okay. My home life is safe because this is my home. My mom is… fine. She’s struggling, she’s trying to help, and I get it. I still love her, but I don’t think she’s cut out for dealing with me right now. And Steve offered. It’s not like I’d ever self-impose.” Nancy eyes the fridge suspiciously.

“Does he drink in front of you?”

“f*ck no,” Max says, taken aback. “Steve’s not dumb. Besides, he says the beer his parents buy is sh*t anyway.”

“Max!”

“What? Calm down, I’m just messing around.” She smiles. Max looks a little nervous, like she might bolt. Nancy glances at the toaster.

“Does he make you do all his chores?”

“Of course not. I like helping out,” Max stares her down. “Steve doesn’t treat me like a baby. He helps me when I need it, and I help him when he needs it. Have a little faith, Nancy.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know,” Max says, hands on her hips. “What’s today?”

“Saturday, the sixteenth.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, it’ll be a month in a few days. I’m not here all the time, but I’d say about half the week, this is my house, you know?”

“A month?”

“Yup.”

“Jesus Christ, Maxine.”

“Hey,” she says. “Don’t use my name in vain.” She smiles a little more boldly this time. Nancy tries to smile too.

“You swear that you want to be here? Like, he’s not holding you hostage or anything?” Max bursts out laughing.

“If anything, I’m holding him hostage. I made him buy a new NES so we can play Zelda and stuff. Come on, be honest, Nancy. Would you really turn down living in a house like this ? It’s massive , we have a pool, and the only rules are that I don’t touch anything of his parents’, and that I leave his car alone. Otherwise, I’m like… god. I feel normal, and it’s fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! We go buy new tapes every Wednesday, and listen to a lot of radio shows. We don’t do a ton of movies, they’re not really interesting to me anymore.” Nancy can’t help but look at Max’s blind eye, and notices the cloudiness and scarring surrounding her surviving one. Her heart squeezes itself in her chest, but she knows that pity isn’t helpful, so she swallows it down.

“I have everything I need here on the ground floor, because stairs are a bitch with my depth perception being all messed up. It’s really nice here. Besides, the trailer park makes me really anxious after spring break. It’s great,” Max whispers the next part, shooting a glance into the living room. “And his parents are almost always gone. It’s… rough.”

“Well, if that’s true, then- ”

“Oh my lord, Wheeler,” Max scoffs. “Enough questions! I promise, everything is fine.”

“Please, just one more?”

“Fine, but that better be the end of it.”

“If you know where everything is, and have everything organized on the ground floor, then why did you let Lucas struggle to find those washcloths last night?” Max shruggs, rolling her eyes.

“Gotta keep my cover. Besides, it was funny.”

“Jesus, Maxine, you’re like the devil.”

“Aww, you flatter me so. Now, I’ve got a question for you,” Max grins. “Wanna see my room?”

—

“Woah,” Nancy stands in the middle of the room, spinning around once in awe. It’s painted a light, fluttery blue, photographs strung absolutely all over the place. Max’s bed is huge, piled with quilts and pillows. The floor is hardwood, speckled with small, plush rugs that don’t exactly match each other. Max’s closet is also massive, though it’s sparsely filled with clothes, and a lot of books. Max shows them off to Nancy with pride.

“Reading is getting easier, ‘cause I’m healing pretty well. Sometimes, though, Steve reads them for me. I think he’s read more novels for me than he’s consumed in all his life. I’ve cured him of his illiteracy!” Nancy laughs lightly. She basks in the warmth of the sun spilling in through the two windows, one north facing, and the other one displaying the rising sun to the east. Though the room is rather large, and sparsely decorated, it feels bright and homey. Max goes through the motions, showing off her skateboard with a bitter sweet grin, showing Nancy her personal collection of tapes and a few singles on vinyl. She holds up a brand new Walkman, a few comic books from DC, and even a painting from Will. It’s simple but wonderful, depicting their smiling faces squished together.

“Look,” Max says, pulling one of her polaroids off its string. She holds it up to the painting. “He did it all based off of this!” Nancy smiles, looking through more of the pictures hung up around the room. Most of them are of her and Lucas, though El, Will, Dustin, Steve and Robin make regular appearances. There’s one of her shooting at Mike with a water gun in Steve’s pool, a few of her and Robin blowing bubbles of gum into Steve’s face, and an impressive amount of pictures showing her on her own in the hospital. Something in Nancy’s throat swells into a mournful lump, but she can’t help the happiness that thrums at her fingertips. Max notices what she’s looking at.

“Lucas took most of those right after I woke up. It was to help me track my progress. I don’t think I look very good in any of them, but, you know. They helped a lot at the time.” Nancy also sees a collection of pictures of Billy all clustered close to Max’s bed. She doesn’t look at them for too long, though. She knows it’s a sore subject for Max.

“Check this out, Nance!” the redhead calls. She opens a door next to the closet, positively giddy. She turns the handle with a flourish, pushing it open as she declares, “ta daaa!” On the other side is a jack-and-jill bathroom, with a full, glittering vanity.

“It’s all mine!” Max beams.

“This is…” Nancy sucks in a deep breath, suddenly teary. She’s so happy for Max, so relieved the younger girl has found somewhere safe for herself. “This is wonderful.”

“Isn’t it! See, if you go through this door here, this is Robin’s room.” The door is flung open, revealing the room that Nancy had spent the night in. She feels herself turn pink, but Max doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to ramble on. “Sometimes, Lucas or Dustin stays here when Robin’s at her parents’ house, but usually, she’s here with me. She brings lots of movies over, and old radio tapes. You know, last weekend, we listened to the War of the Worlds track, and it’s hilarious. Though, my favorite…” Max drones on, gesturing wildly, more vibrant than Nancy’s seen her in months. Something in her brain glows with joy, happy to see that not only does Max have somewhere safe to be, a home with Robin and Steve, but there’s something else, too. Some part of her is satisfied that Robin stays in a separate room. She does her best to believe Robin, take her at her word, but envy is a powerful beast that even Nancy struggles to defeat. So, she goes along with Max’s tour, entirely content and relieved.

—

After breakfast, Robin puts on Johnny Cash's Songs of Our Soil , lying down on the couch and dozing off. She’s hit with a wave of mid-morning dreariness like she’s never known before. If Steve’s right, and she really does have a concussion, it’s killing her. Her head is aching deeply, but not in a way that she can pinpoint what’s bothering her. It swirls in her skull like a cloud, slipping from her fingers before hazing back as soon as she thinks she’s beyond it. She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut.

Eventually, Steve wanders over to her, some book or another clutched in his hand. He lifts up her legs, sitting down next to her before letting her legs back down. He’s quiet, and Robin’s head is filled with the sounds of pages turning, her own swelling breath, and Johnny Cash’s sweet, mournful singing. She never really falls asleep, but dozes in and out of consciousness, resting in dreamless bouts of darkness. At some point, Steve gets up, flips the record over before joining Robin on the couch again. The time melts away through her outstretched fingers, and it brings Robin some sort of peace.

When the turntable runs out, crackling with that ever potent sound of nothingness, Robin turns over on her back, eyes bleary. She looks at Steve, who’s still reading. He’s really been doing a lot of that this summer, reading and what not. Robin is proud of him.

“Steve,” she mumbles, poking the spine of his book with her toe. “I want to go for a walk.”

“Where would we go?” Steve asks, not looking up.

“Outside.”

“Where outside?”

“Anywhere, dingus. I just need to get out of this house.” Steve shoots her a look.

“Sorry, man,” Robin continues. “But I’m getting cabin fever and all. I need sunshine! I must photosynthesize!”

“Really? Do you have to?”

“Yes, Steve .”

“Now?”

“Now!” Robin asserts. Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he snaps his book shut. He wanders to the front room, grabbing his shoes and Robin’s, starting to pull them on.

“Come on, Robin. Let’s get all suited up. Don’t want you to burn off the soles of your feet.” Robin grins, positively gleeful. She’s not sure why she wants to be outside so badly, just that it’s really important that it happens now .

—

Robin charges outside as fast as her injured leg will allow her to, spinning around gleefully when the sun hits her face. She may have been outside and just fine yesterday, it suddenly feels like years since she’s had a chance to enjoy the outdoors. The sugar-toothed humidity of the Indiana summer hits her hard in the chest, her lungs ballooning indulgently, mouth open as she gasps. The cicadas continue their harmonious droning, making her head feel a hundred times larger, a hundred times lighter. Robin shakes out her arms, spinning around until Steve is there at her side, smiling softly.

“Steve!” she shouts.

“Robin!” he does his best to match her energy.

“I f*cking love summer!” Robin runs at him, a little slower than usual, jumping onto him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She drags him down to her level, grabbing his ears as soon as their eyes meet. When they’d first started hanging out, Robin had kind of frightened him. Her eagerness towards physical touch and the way that she is always moving had unnerved him. He just didn’t understand. Honestly, he’ll never understand Robin, but he vibes with her now. He cares about her.

Robin knows this, and takes full advantage of it. She’s still shaking out her right hand as she drops it to her side, the other hand wrapping firmly around Steve’s wrist. She pulls him down the road, joy pushing at her ribs, helping her ignore the slivers of pain that shoot up her body.

A little down the sidewalk, Robin is already slowing down. She’s no less joyous, but she knows that she’ll have to pace herself in order to stay outside for longer. Steve’s walking beside her, eyes turned skyward. They plunge into the shade underneath a tree, and finally, his eyes meet hers. Robin heaves a deep breath, trying to tilt her head in a carefree way, opening her mouth.

“Steve, there’s something I’ve gotta tell you.” Steve does his best to remain calm, but he knows that this can’t be good.

—

“Well,” Steve sighs. He’s carrying Robin on his back now, hiking back from the woods. While Robin had told him everything she’d pulled him off the path and towards a stream that she swore was super close, that it wouldn’t even be that hard to reach. She’d been wrong, but whatever. Eventually, her legs had tired, and Robin had insisted that she be carried. Now, she’s sitting on his shoulders, doing as many tiny braids in his luscious hair as she can manage. “I mean, we didn’t see it when we had come to pick you up, and you were still alive, so I think you killed the bastard.”

“I want my lighter back,” Robin groans, finishing another braid.

“We can go look for it when you’re feeling better, okay?”

“Fine.”

For a while, the two are silent. There’s only the steady sound of Steve’s footsteps crunching over the undergrowth, the spontaneous trill of warblers and waxwings, and the breathless hush of the canopy above them. The light is tainted with amber and the lip-stains of chlorophyll, brilliant and fresh against her face. The world holds Robin gently in its green, warm palm, easing her overstimulation. Summer hovers around her head, a cursed halo that speaks of only dry riverbeds that will meet her in later dates, and leaves her clutching to whatever glitters and glows before her now. Each breath she takes is so heavy, it feels stolen, and she refuses to let it out until every ounce of lovely, midsomer gold is laced into her throat. See, the thing that Robin is grappling with is that, not only does she not want to die, but she actually wants to live. It’s been a while since she’s been compelled into existence willfully. Robin drops the braid in her hands, letting her fingers come to lace in Steve’s hair, resting against his scalp.

“You okay up there, Rob?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly. Robin mulls it over in her head, unsure of exactly how to get into it. Her eyes find themselves drawn skyward, so she goes with it, her mind drifting back to her more pleasant dreams. She thinks of Nancy, and wonders.

“Do you believe in a god, Steve?” This gives him pause, sending his eyes to the ground while he thinks.

“Not any more. I think I wished I did, when I was younger, but after… after everything that keeps happening, I sort of lost hope.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” Robin whispers. “I’ve always felt so alone. I mean, it helps to have you, dingus. But… you’re only one person, and I didn’t really know you until a year ago. Otherwise, my whole life, it’s been Robin Buckley, party of one. Now, though, we have all the kiddos, and I don’t know what to do with myself. The world feels like it’s gotten so much bigger.”

“I know, it’s wild. I can’t believe we’re done with high school.”

“It makes me sad, Steve. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, that there’s a whole pile of childhood that I’ll never get. I just… sometimes, I think, ‘Why us? Why me?’ I feel like I could spend forever in the trees, and be the same person happily, for all my life, but it’s like… as soon as we leave, it’s all over for me. I’m so scared to be Robin .”

“Are you doing alright? What’s this all about, Robs?”

“Ugh,” Robin sighs, letting her hands finally find their way back to Steve’s shoulders. “I’m just worried. I… I kinda want to tell Nancy, umm, about me, because I can’t bear the thought of her finding out on her own. I don’t- ugh, Steve, I’m so scared.”

“How come?”

“What if Nancy hates me? I haven’t had a girl friend- well, a friend that’s a girl- in years. I’m so scared that she’ll look at me differently, that she’ll hate me. I want to be good enough for her. I don’t want her to be scared of me. I mean, you’re the only one that I told about the… that thing turning into her, telling me what it did. I’m scared she won’t understand, and that she won’t be comfortable around me anymore if she knows.” Steve sighs, and squeezes her ankles empathetically.

“I don’t think Nancy will hate you, Rob. She’s not that kind of person. Why do you want to tell her?” Steve asks. “If it’s making you so nervous, but you still want it, what makes it worth it to you?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Rob, don’t bullsh*t me. I know when you’re lying.”

“Steve, if I tell you, then you’ll hate me.”

“Robin,” Steve stops walking, awkwardly tilting back his head, catching her eye. “I’ll never hate you. Please, believe me when I say that, because there is nothing you can do that will change how much I care about you. Got it?” Robin scowls, huffing a breath out of her nose before staring off into the distance.

“Fine,” she grumbles, embarrassed. “But this is a secret. Tell no one .”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Alright,” Robin says, steeling herself. “So, it’s not that big of a deal, but it’s kinda become one. So, take all this with a grain of salt. Maybe I’ll heal, and things will be different, but like, it’s the way I feel now, you know? It’s kind of stupid, too, because if I tell her, it won’t change who she is, but like, some part of me has always hoped that it would be enough . I really, really want to be good enough for her. Oh, f*ck, Steve. I… I’ve got it bad for that girl.”

“Nancy?”

“Yeah. I’ve never… never, ever felt like this before. She’s starting to feel like everything to me. I feel like I owe it to her to believe in her best intentions, to trust her, to tell her.”

“You’re in love with Nancy Wheeler ?’

“Don’t act so surprised, you liked her once, too. And no, I don’t think it’s love , that’s sorta-”

“Like, Nancy ‘She’s Such a Priss’ Wheeler?”

“Yes, Steve. Get it through that thick skull of yours. Did you use too much hair gel this morning? Are your ears working okay?” Robin spits on her pinkie finger, going to shove it into Steve’s ear, but he tilts to the side, and she shrieks.

“Don’t even think of trying that, Buckley. I will f*cking drop you, don’t test me, man.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” She’s laughing, holding tighter to Steve’s shoulders. She wipes the spit on her hand off on Steve’s t-shirt, though, adding a little spite for good measure.

“You’re so gross, man,” Steve sighs, continuing on. “And for what it’s worth, I think you should tell her. It’s like you said, she’s full of surprises.” In the distance, Robin can see the sidewalk, and breathes out a heavy breath. It’ll be nice to be back home with everyone, but she really likes it outside. Robin’s not sure if she’s ready to leave yet. But Steve keeps on marching, his pace steady, and his breath betraying the air of weariness sneaking into him.

All too quickly, they’re at the walkway up to Steve’s house, and he’s carefully depositing Robin onto the ground. He lets her lean her weight on him, but to her surprise, Steve doesn’t move. He stares down at the ground, gears turning in his brain. Steve seems too nervous to start the conversation.

“What’s up, super star?” Robin asks, tilting her head so she can find his eyes. She can’t get him to look at her.

“I just…” Steve runs a hand over his face, and suddenly, he looks so much younger, scared and small. Robin’s brows furrow in concern, trying to ignore the headache pulsating at her temples.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something, too,” he sighs.

“Yeah?”

“But I don’t want to, like, steal your thunder,” Steve’s stare doesn’t break from the ground, and now, Robin’s starting to get worried. Sure, she’s seen Steve rather upset plenty of times in her life, but he’s never been this reserved. She squeezes his shoulder, trying to reassure him. Robin notices his eyes drifting up to her hand, lingering on the glittering, silver ring on her finger. It was the one that she’d taken from Eddie. Suddenly, Steve’s cheeks look kind of pink. Okay, what’s going on?

“Okay, so, I think I’m like you, Robin.” He still can’t bring himself to look her in the eye. Robin frowns, turning her own gaze to her shoes, thinking hard.

“You’re also obsessed with Nancy Wheeler?” she asks, quizzical. That grabs his attention, and he finally looks at her. His deep, brown eyes swirl with frustration, though it’s not directed at her. It sits deep inside himself, and Robin realizes how much he’s struggling with this. Still, she’s not sure quite what he means, and her headache is starting to get really bad. She really needs to get out of the sun. So, trying to get Steve to speak more, she cracks another joke.

“You’re also secretly a lesbian pining for your friend?” She glances at him, trying to gauge his reaction. To her shock, he starts nodding.

“Like, no, obviously, but also, yes?”

“Steve,” Robin says, taking his face in her hands. She frowns, just a little, her eyes darting between Steve’s as she tries to get a read on him. She says her next words cautiously. “Are you gay?” Steve seems afraid.

“What, no,” he says, eyes locking. “Not all the way. Well, okay, like, obviously women are super hot. Nothing will ever change that. Seriously, the ladies are a whole ten out of ten, if you know what I’m saying. But also, like, men are kinda…” His face grows bashful.

“Kinda super hot?” Robin beams, shaking Steve’s head a little. Steve nods, overcome with shyness. He looks like he’s going to cry, and Robin can’t have that, so she makes him look at her, makes him see how happy she is. Robin laughs, positively joyous, surging forward to throw her arms around her best friend. Steve wraps his arms around her in return, hiding his face in her shoulder as Robin pats the back of his head.

“This is so awesome, Steve,” she says. “Thank you so, so much for telling me. I won’t let anyone else know, I promise.”

“Thanks, Rob,” he mumbles into her shoulder. “You’re the best, seriously.”

“I know,” she giggles. “I really am.”

“Thank you for making me brave,” Steve whispers. He doesn’t shake, doesn’t sob like Robin does when she’s upset, but she can feel his tears dampen her borrowed shirt, and can feel his shoulders grow weak in her hold. She squeezes him a little tighter.

“Thanks for sticking with me,” Steve continues. He pulls back, voice watery as his lower lip wobbles. “Thanks for never giving up on me. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, weren’t for all of you, for Eddie, I don’t think I would have ever even let myself think about it. I know… I know it’ll never be easy, but I feel… oh, I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Lighter?” Robin asks gently, empathizing immediately.

“Yeah, exactly,” Steve nods. Robin smiles.

“When I first found out I was a lesbian, it was scary, and I felt really alone, but it helps when you have someone to tell. I don’t broadcast it, but Steve, you have no idea how important it was for me to tell you. Did you know that, so far, you’re the only person I’ve ever even said the word ‘lesbian’ around?”

“I mean, I kinda guessed.”

“Yeah, when I said it out loud, it kinda… stuck. Like, in my brain. It felt so real, you know?”

“Yeah, it all feels so real. Robin, I think I’m bisexual.”

“That’s f*cking awesome . I’m so happy for you, Steve.”

“Thanks, Rob. I’m so glad those Russians captured us.”

“Yeah,” she laughs, closing her eyes. “Me too. sh*t, me too. Hey,” she says, tone immediately falling to deadly serious. “I’m really proud of you, man. You’re a great guy. I mean it! You look out for these kids, you look out for me . You’re the first person to do that since, like, my mom or my aunt or something, and they don’t even know me like you do. Thank you for… everything.”

Now Steve’s got tears streaming down his face, but he’s smiling. He looks relieved, dark eyes glowing with a youthfulness that Robin’s never seen before.

“I f*cking love you, man,” Robin blubbers, dragging him towards her again.

“I love you too, Robs.”

Chapter 5: Like Candied Violets

Chapter Text

The house is mostly quiet as Robin and Steve make their way into it. Max must have put on some of her music, because Siouxie’s A Kiss in the Dreamhouse thrums softly from the living room, though it’s mostly drowned out by Nancy’s stern tone. She’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen, offering them a wave before going back to admonishing whoever is on the other line.

“No,” Robin hears her hiss. “I really can’t wait until tomorrow. Well- no, hold on. She’s not bleeding out on the floor, but we need to get her in to see someone as soon as we can. Please, are you sure you don’t have any openings today?” Oh. Nancy’s probably trying to see if they have any availability in the ER. It seems strange to Robin, calling to see if the ER has any space, but it makes sense, considering the last couple of months. Immediately following the earthquake, the hospitals had been flooded with people who’d been trapped under rubble or otherwise harmed in the resulting fires or unstable buildings, but now, the infrastructure’s overrun with people suffering from pneumonia-like symptoms, their eyes leaking, their throats burning, their lungs blackened. Sometimes, there’s people claiming to have been attacked by strange animals, or reporting terrible, splitting headaches that arrived out of nowhere. Robin still wonders how much time this miserable town has before Vecna just swallows them whole. She hears whispers of El building up strength to close the splits, calling in some kid from Illinois that she used to know, hoping to kill Vecna once and for all. Robin doesn’t push her, though. The kid’s only fifteen, and deserves to have some time to think about being a child, not a superweapon.

Robin pulls up a stool, sitting at Steve’s island in the kitchen, letting her upper body flop forward onto the cool countertop, sighing. She zones out the distant rhythm of Max’s music, Nancy’s firm tone, the buzz of lawnmowers and cicadas outside. Robin looks around the room slowly, feeling groggy all over again. She hates doctors, hates hospitals even more, but maybe it would be good to see someone. The numbness that blurs over her back is starting to melt away, meaning she feels twinges of pain along the gashes in her back when she leans too far one way, or if something brushes against her back. If she thinks too hard about her bruises, or her scratches, or her ever persistent headache, Robin’s skin starts to crawl, growing hypersensitive and smarting against the material of her shirt. She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes, a quiet groan pushing out from her throat.

She’s ashamed to admit it, but Robin finds herself staring at Nancy. She’ll come to justify this by thinking that she needs to distract herself, needs something, anything else to think about, and like, that’s at least partially true. Could she have busied herself by going to visit Max or El, or see what Lucas and Dustin are playing on the NES? Sure, she could . She could have gone to lie down alone, or bother Steve, wherever he’s gotten off to, but she doesn’t want to. Right now, Nancy is perfectly happy to sit here, cheek pressed against the cool granite of the island’s top, watching the ball of Nancy’s jaw grow more pronounced as she becomes more frustrated. Her hair is still messy, wavy and loose, curling around her head like a halo, catching the light pooling in through the windows as she starts pacing, brows drawing together. Nancy says something about insufferable incompetence, and shames the poor guy on the phone, her voice becoming dangerously low, sickly sweet and poisonous. It has Robin’s cheeks heating up, and she forces herself to try to stare at the sink.

Sure, Steve’s got a cool sink, all shiny and faucet-y, but it’s not nearly as cool as Nancy Wheeler. So, Robin gives up on trying to justify herself, or divert her energy. Now, she just stares openly, smiling when Nancy’s free hand falls to her hip, her face tugging into a bitter frown. Robin chews absently on the dry, cracked skin of her lips, zoning out.

She really idolizes Nancy. She’s got a good filter, always keeping people hanging off her words as they try to figure out what she really wants. There’s such a power in her silence, the way her dark denim eyes speak for her, that lights fires in the pits of Robin’s stomach. Even better, Nancy knows when she doesn’t have to hold back. Robin smiles, watching Nancy go off on the fool over the phone, declaring that they’d better have a doctor available, ready to start disinfecting and performing their scans when she brings Robin in, or so help her god. There’s a moment of silence, and a firm, steel grin takes over Nancy’s face. She hangs up triumphantly, closing her eyes and exhaling harshly. She brings her hands up to her eyes, taking a moment to collect herself before she snaps upright, eyes drawn to Robin’s.

There’s just something about this girl. Nancy breathes like she owns the air she floats on, oozes power braided easily with her hyper-femininity, and it makes Robin melt. She sits up straight, not even trying to hide herself. Nancy comes over to her, hopping up onto the countertop before reaching out her hands. Robin offers her own battered palms obediently, Nancy clasping one of them with both of her hands. Her fingers weave together over them firmly, applying a tentative, comforting pressure, and Robin sees her break just a little bit, shoulders slumping.

“Nance?” Robin whispers. The brunette’s eyes peel open slowly, staring first at their joined hands before coming up to meet Robin’s eyes. Her smile is small, tight, and rosy, pulling Robin back to the memory of them walking in the woods together, Nancy professing her want for a real friendship. Robin hopes that she’s enough, that Nancy is happy.

“You’re going to be okay,” Nancy asserts. “Everything is going to be alright.” Robin nods, though some part of her registers that these words aren’t for her. They’re for Nancy. Robin can feel her pulse through the soft skin of her palms, the way her tired bones creak around Robin’s wounds. She looks far away, feels far away, the pronounced tendons of her hands swimming about as Nancy tries to find purchase in their hold. Her eyes are glassy, her body weary, her spirit drained. Robin does what she can, setting her other hand over top of Nancy’s thumbs tracing the grooves and trenches of Nancy’s slender hands, finding a tremor that lurks in them, shaking weakly.

Indeed, Nancy is her tragic hero. Sure, they’re legally adults now, but that doesn’t erase the child she sees in Nancy’s teary eyes, doesn’t change the fact that they still bolt awake at night, shaken by nightmares, doesn’t make any sense of why they have to live through this sh*t. Nancy’s eyes have found the floor very interesting, and Robin can see the effort it takes for her not to cry, not to break down, right there. Robin tries to catch her gaze, but she can’t. Nancy really is quite unlike herself.

“I’m going to be okay,” Robin tries, drawing their joined hands closer to her. Her shoulder presses against Nancy’s knee, the older girl’s attention drawn to the new point of contact. Robin sees Nancy’s face go red, but she knows that it’s the tint of shame, heavy and hallowing on her skin.

“I’m going to kill that f*cker,” Nancy vows, her voice dark and rainy. It drizzles down Robin’s neck, making the hairs on her nape stand straight up. She shivers, spotting the spiteful fury that glows through Nancy’s tears. Finally, Nancy looks at her. “I’m going to kill him, and no one, no one is ever going to touch you again, okay?”

“Oh, Nance,” Robin starts.

“No! I’ll do it, I will. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t have been dragged into this sh*t show, you shouldn’t be the one getting drugged, or beat up, or- or…” Nancy locks her jaw shut with a snap, her chest convulsing as she fights off a sob. Robin stands, wincing at the sound of the stool scraping against the floor, and coming to stand before Nancy. Robin often forgets how small Nancy is, that she’s shorter than her by so much. She’s reminded of it now, though, Nancy curled in on herself, choking on her words. Robin’s hands find her shoulders, urging Nancy to keep her eyes on her face. When Nancy finally lets her body unclench, her knees falling apart from one another, Robin slips between them, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s shoulders. The other girl’s arms make their way around her waist, fiddling anxiously with the edges of the bandages wrapped around her torso.

“I’m so sorry, Rob,” Nancy cries. Her face is pressed into Robin’s good shoulder, her fingers tracing the cool metal of the safety pin securing her wrappings. “I should have been there with you. It should have been-”

“No, Nancy, please don’t say that,” Robin says, her voice thin as she whispers over Nancy’s shoulder. “It shouldn’t have been you, it shouldn’t have been any of you. It’s not your fault. It never has been, and it won’t be.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Nancy says. She can’t stop herself, the words spilling like a mantra from her lips in between sobs. Her throat starts to rattle, hollow and worn, her voice like the roar of water in Robin’s ears. Her breathing comes in waves, heavy and forced out, punching through the false silence of the kitchen.

“It’s okay, Nance,” Robin murmurs. “You got me a spot with a doctor, and I’m going to be okay. I made it out alive, didn’t I?” Nancy says nothing, only holding onto her even tighter.

“I want you to come with me,” Robin continues. “I hate doctors, hate them with all my being. But I have to go. Come with me?”

“Of course, of course,” Nancy says, her breath still shaky. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re just doing what’s right. It’s not your fault that hospitals smell like absolute death.” Nancy does not laugh. She just burrows into Robin’s hold, trying desperately to even out her breath.

They stay like that for what feels like years. At some point, Steve wanders in, his hair freshly washed and slicked back from his face, and he is impossibly quiet. Robin parts herself from Nancy’s impossibly tight hold, her hands dragging from the older girl’s shoulders with an acute taste of longing. Nancy can’t bring herself to look at her, but at least she’s not crying any more. Her eyes look tired, but their watery quality has all but melted away. She sniffs, pinching the bridge of her nose as Steve takes a seat at the island.

“You doing okay, Wheeler?”

“I’ll be okay, Steve,” she grumbles. “Don’t worry about it.” Nancy’s words are gruff, but Steve just smiles at her, letting his hand rest on her shoulder.

“You did good, man. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“Alright,” Nancy says, allowing herself to lean into his touch. Robin still feels a little loopy, but she feels this profound shade of carmine pink glow beneath her sternum, coiling itself in content waves at the sight. Robin’s parents are fine, sure, but they’ve always been distant. Her mom is always working, and has a profound sensitivity to loud noises, which means she and Robin don’t really understand each other. Her dad lives in Illinois, spending his days as a sh*tty little auto wreck attorney. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s so far away, and so emotionally absent. Robin has spent much of her life wondering why no one wanted to stick with her, constantly worried that it’s her fault, and that she’ll never be able to grow out of it. But these people, they look at her, and they do not search out her flaws.

Robin loves Steve with every fiber of her being. If one had told Robin from two or three years ago that her absolute best friend would be Steve the hair Harrington, she would have laughed in their face. Who could have guessed that the King of the Douchebags is a massive dork with a provider complex? Steve gives her a home when her mom is away, or when Robin is feeling empty. He never expects anything of her, he just wants her to be happy. He’s honest with her, trusts her with his most vulnerable secrets, and Robin is so, so proud to be here for him. Even more surprising, Robin finds that she doesn’t really hate the kids. Actually, she quite likes them. Dustin’s a little sh*t who never takes anything seriously, but he’s fun, and so impossibly smart . If he ever starts a business, Robin will be the first person to bet on his ideas, because holy sh*t, that kid’s a genius. El is perpetually silent, but never lacks in personality or fun. Robin understands that she will never know all that El has gone through, but honestly, that’s okay. It’s nice to see the little punk grow into herself, telling Robin about her favorite new books, or do stupidly reckless things with her powers. Two weeks ago, when they decided that the weather would be warm enough, Robin had gone with her party to the quarry, and let El suspend her floating body thirty feet above the water’s surface. It was f*cking fun . She loves Max for holding onto life so firmly, for recovering against every odd. She’s permanently blinded in her left eye, and there’s little hope for her right one. She may forever be in leg braces or on crutches, and has a literal steel rod in her spine, but Max is still, in every way possible, still Max. She’s still snarky and fiery, still passionate and caring and so wonderful. It’s hard for her, adjusting to such a big change, but she takes her disabilities in stride. Robin’s only really known her well for a year, but she’s so proud of Max. She’s proud of Lucas, too. He’s a true teenage dirtbag, and that’s probably why they get along so well. He’s a damn good leader, and shockingly decisive. Robin’s always known that he’s strong, but she’s only recently come to know his emotional fortitude. He’s there for everyone . He goes and cries with Dustin when they check in on Eddie, he plays D&D with his sister, he helps Max with her PT, he goes biking with Will, he goes down to the basketball courts with Steve– he’s always there for them. Sometimes, Robin takes him driving in his uncle's Saab. Does she know how to drive? No, obviously not. But Lucas has one of the best collections of tapes from The Cure, Run DMC and De La Soul that she’s ever seen. If she’s being fully honest, Lucas doesn’t even need any more driving instruction. She just likes to listen to his songs, and when they go driving on the highway for a long time, they’ll stop and she’ll pick up fries and milkshakes for them.

And of course, there’s Nancy Wheeler. God, where does she even start? They’d never gotten along when they were younger, though never for any good reason. Nancy just looked at Robin and decided that they would hate each other, and so, they did. Robin wishes that she hadn’t been so scared of Nancy, so committed to hating her for dating popular boys and being so infuriatingly pretty. For years, she looked at Nancy as everything that she was supposed to be, and could not become. Foolishly, she despised Nancy for that. Now, though, she knows. She knows Nancy’s deep sense of misandry comes from years of objectification of her girlish joy, knows that Nancy would kill to go to college, knows that Nancy is the most hard working, dedicated, passionate person she’s ever met. Nancy is surprisingly introverted, and incredibly empathetic. Robin can’t read social cues for sh*t, but Nancy is like her rosetta stone. She keeps Robin as safe and happy as she can. They go to movies together, drink ice cold soda pop until they get headaches, sit on the roof of her house and stare at the stars, and they breathe together. Nancy makes space for Robin to heal. Robin feels like an idiot. Her gorgeous, fantastic best friend is straight . Robin’s never really had lots of girl friends in the past, so she’s not sure if what Nancy does is just… normal among friends. She feels guilty. Here’s Nancy, a literal angel, a true godsend, keeping everyone happy and safe and alive , and Robin’s got a big, fat crush on her. She is obsessed with the lilting melody of her voice, the way she smells like rain, how she scrunches up her nose when she’s annoyed with something, trying to swallow down a laugh. She adores the way Nancy commits her heart and soul to her every endeavor, the way she squares her shoulders and holds her head high in the face of adversity, the way the world keeps throwing sh*t at her and somehow, Nancy keeps going . Robin loves– wait. She…

Oh.

Oh–

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? She may have brushed off Steve when he’d suggested it earlier, but holy sh*t. Robin’s sitting there, in a house of all her favorite people, swelling with sweet adoration for all her friends, and it hits her like a bus. She feels it in her head, and in her chest, and in her stomach, and in her weak knees and shaky hands. It’s all so much, it all feels just impossible, because Robin really thinks that she could fall in love with Nancy Wheeler.

sh*t. Robin’s poor, gay heart squeezes itself, and she lets her hand fall on Nancy’s other shoulder, pretending to listen to whatever Steve is rambling about. She feels Nancy lean into her, body shaking when she bursts into a laugh, and suddenly, there’s a smile taking over Robin’s whole face, her cheeks warm. Steve catches her eye, grinning just as wide, and Robin thinks she’ll burst.

—

So, Robin knew that Nancy would be coming with her to the doctor. What Robin did not know was that everyone was coming with her. Steve had driven Nancy back downtown so Nancy could get her station wagon, and now Robin understands why. Nancy’s driving next to her, an exasperated smile painted on her face, and much to the dismay of Max and Dustin, Robin has won the immaculate privilege of getting shotgun. Max, Lucas and El are squished into the row of seats directly behind them, and in the very back, Steve, Dustin, as well as Mike and Will, who are also here now. The car is absolutely full, and The Cure’s The Head on the Door is blasting through the speakers. Everyone in the back is singing along with full force. Even Steve goes along with it, shooting Robin a grin when she gives him a look, because he doesn’t even know the words to half these songs.

When they pull into the lot at the hospital, everyone frantically piles out of the car. Nancy’s darting out of the front, dashing around to let her obnoxious brother out of the back, bickering with him over how he should not slam the doors shut, Mike , it’s hard on the hinges and the latch. Max is pushing Lucas impatiently as he struggles to undo his seatbelt, desperately trying to crawl out around him. This isn’t helped when Dustin opens his door, helping Max worm her way around him and find her footing under her. El titters behind her, covering her laugh with a hand as she reaches over, letting Lucas free of his seatbelt before climbing out herself. El walks over to Robin’s door, opening it for her, offering her hand. As they make their way through the sliding doors of the hospital, El doesn’t let go of her. Robin knows that she doesn’t much like hospitals, and she really doesn’t mind having someone to hold on to. Nancy is in front of them, leading the herd of children into the waiting room, Steve bringing up the rear to make sure they don’t lose any stragglers. They get a lot of strange looks from the people already sitting around, and the woman at the front desk pulls her glasses down her nose, looking over the tops of them to be sure her eyes don’t deceive her. Steve gets everyone seated in the waiting room as El walks Robin up to Nancy’s side, the brunette getting Robin checked in. Her tone is firm and unwavering, and though she is polite, there is a knife’s edge of authority bleeding into her voice. Robin feels herself go red up to her ears. If anyone notices, she’ll blame it on her concussion.

Dazed, Nancy leads her back to one of the sh*tty hospital chairs. They sit quietly, watching the wildness of their friends with fond, distant smiles. Nancy must notice that Robin isn’t putting her heart into it, isn’t roaring with laughter like she usually is when Steve and her crack jokes. Her slender, cleanly manicured hand settles itself over Robin’s tired knuckles. She’s talking to Max right now, her free hand used for gesturing as they engage in conversation, but still, she makes an effort to hold steady to Robin. She feels herself melt, eternally grateful for all these people. They’re all much louder than may be situationally appropriate, but they’re all lovely. Robin zones out, flipping her hand over so that she and Nancy are palm to palm, the delicate ridges of their fingerprints pressing together. In fact, Robin becomes so focused on the smooth, warm press of their hands that she doesn’t realize that the doctor is calling for them. Nancy has to tug her to her feet before Robin straightens up, plastering on an awkward smile as she feels embarrassment nip at her stomach. She introduces herself quietly, fingers clenching tight around themselves as they head off to for her appointment.

When Robin grows quiet and anxious after they take her CT scan, Nancy steps in easily for her. Robin can’t stand the flickering fluorescent lights, or the striped linoleum of the floor. She hates the doctor’s crinkly paper and the way her voice drones on, toneless, emotionless. Robin feels her headache swell up again, her eyelids fluttering over her contracting irises as she tries to hide how uncomfortable this all is. The skin on her lower ribs prickles and swims anxiously around itself, contracting, loosening, and contracting again. She’s had her wounds looked at, disinfected, stitched up and rebandaged. She feels numb in all the wrong places, her mind frustratingly spacy. She feels like she’s drowning in all the smells, her sinuses swelling themselves shut, biting down on her breath. Robin squeezes her teeth shut, feeling her jaw pop as she breathes slowly, evenly. She counts all seventy-two visible linoleum tiles, and their collective fourteen scuffs that make her frustrated. Then she starts fiddling with her ring, trying not to think about the feeling of the stitches on her back. The new bandages they wrapped her in are really, really tight. They fight against her ribs when she breathes, and she, against her better judgment, really wants to rip them off. She’s not sure why they have to be here for so long. The doctor already put that little light by her eyes, and tested her balance, and her hearing, and her reflexes, and literally everything. They did the cognitive tests, and even found no blood clots in her brain. Why does she still have to be here? The room is cold, and Robin wraps her arms around herself, trying to breathe, breathe .

Just when she feels like jumping out the window, Nancy is gently tugging her to her feet, leading Robin back through the hallways and to the waiting room. She’s already thanked the doctor, and Robin vaguely remembers something about them getting her set up to get a prescription for some blood thinner and antibiotics. Their feet squeak over the stupid, evil linolium, and Nancy gently squeezes Robin’s hand as they round another corner.

“Thanks, Nance,” Robin mumbles, flinching at the dumb, awful lights. Why don’t they have any windows in here? Whoever decided to keep them in this awful, burning white light is horrifically sad*stic.

“Of course, Robin,” Nancy says. She sounds relieved. “We’ll get you some tylenol when we get back, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Then, they turn another corner, finding themselves in the waiting room. Everyone’s quieted down quite a bit, and Steve is back to reading his book, whatever it is. He looks up when he sees them, bounding over to Robin. The kids follow him like a swarm, and Robin hears Nancy giggle as Steve wraps her in a hug.

“Steve,” Robin manages.

“Rob!”

“Steve, too much. Can’t breathe man.”

“Oh, sh*t,” Steve says, dropping her immediately. Instead, he just reaches out a hand, ruffling Robin’s already disheveled hair. “You good, Rob? How bad is everything?” Robin shrugs.

“Like, not great, duh,” Robin slings an arm over El, who is already grabbing for her hand. “But I’ll be okay. I got nine stitches down my back. I’d show you, but I don’t think I’m supposed to take my bandages off.”

“Nine stitches?” Dustin exclaims. “That’s f*cking wizard.”

“Good lord,” Lucas rolls his eyes. “Wizard is never going to stick. Stop trying to make it happen.”

“It will! It shall!” Dustin turns on his heel, and suddenly all of them parade out into the parking lot. When she shuffles out through the sliding doors, Robin is hit with a blast of balmy, summer air, her eyes struggling to adjust to the light, but she breathes a heavy sigh. It certainly beats the grimy hospital. It smells like gasoline, grass and hot, sticky asphalt, and Robin feels absolutely exhausted. Nancy unlocks her car, and everyone piles in.

Robin wrinkles her nose, frustrated with how loud everything is. Now that everyone is secured in the car, they’re complaining that Nancy won’t start the car fast enough, and that they need AC and music stat . Steve’s yelling about something from the back, and Mike is shouting up to Nancy. Lucas and Max are singing something dumb and unrecognizable to mess with Dustin, and Nancy’s trying to control the chaos. Finally, she gets the car started, the engine growling to life, causing Robin to flinch. The noises of everyone’s voices bounce off the enclosed space in a rabid, aggressive fashion that has bright spots battering Robin’s brain, and her eyes pricking with tears. She squeezes her eyes shut, but there’s not much she can do to keep her breath steady any more. It comes out in forceful puffs, stealing air for her inhalation with a harsh, sudden gasp. Robin really doesn’t feel good at all. She winces once more when the noise is cut by Nancy’s sharp voice.

“Shut up! Jesus f*ck, were you all raised in a barn ?” Robin feels Nancy’s hand come to set on her knee, the brunette’s tone immediately quieting. “Sorry, Robin. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be alright,” Robin manages, her breath finally coming in even tides. Nancy squeezes her knee, shooting a bitter look to everyone crammed into the back of the car, before backing out of her parking spot.

“Rob, will you put on something to listen to?” Robin reaches into the glove compartment, rummaging around until she finds something suitable. Blondie’s Autoamerican is swiftly pushed into the tape feed, Nancy offering Robin a pleasant smile when the track begins. The car is almost entirely silent, and a smug smile makes an appearance on Nancy’s face. She hums along with the music, thumbs tapping on her steering wheel as she brings them back to Steve’s place. Robin rolls down the window, first letting her head lean out just a bit, sucking down the fresh air greedily. When that becomes uncomfortable, the scratches along her back twinging, she leans back in her seat, flinging a leg out the window. Nancy looks at her sideways, but she doesn’t criticize her. She just laughs, the noise dancing out through the air like misted honey, and Robin smiles back.

—

“Here,” Nancy says, pressing two small, white capsules into Robin’s expecting palm. Robin is sitting on the vanity in the bathroom between her room and Max’s, now in another one of Steve’s shirts. “We’ll start with this for today, alright?” Robin grimaces, her eyebrows pinching.

“I f*ckin’ hate pills.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I hate swallowing things whole. I usually just chew them.”

“Chew them? Ew, Robin, I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Well, no, but also, who’s stopping me?”

“I am, stupid,” Nancy says, hand coming to rest on Robin’s knee. Nancy squeezes her, a grin scrawling across her lips. Robin can’t help but notice the clean cut of Nancy’s square jaw, the way it flexes as she talks, as she smiles. They’re so, so close to each other, and Robin’s stomach explodes in butterflies. They’ve got most of the lights turned off to save her from a headache, and all it does is give Nancy a most delectable appeal of mystery and botanical beauty. Nancy’s allure can be likened to that of a lilac’s– she’s all soft edges and pastel colors that hint at something sharp hidden underneath. Robin’s hand finds its way to the firm perch of Nancy’s shoulder, fingers drawn to the grooves of the muscles there. Nancy is strong , and Robin has never known such an unbreakable will. Her body is hot and flushed, her breath slow and shaky. Nancy presses a glass of water into her hand.

“Here,” she murmurs, voice just above a whisper. Her eyes are positively electric in the low light, glowing so, so blue, a thousand shades of it. “Just… think of it like you’re trying to swallow a frog. It helps, I promise.” Nancy’s all bashful, and Robin snickers. Of course Nancy would say that. She’s so f*cking funny. Robin’s heart squirms in her chest, pressing desperately to push out and into the open, but Robin tries to quiet it. She just takes the glass of water, profoundly aware that Nancy’s eyes never leave her as she swallows it down, along with the pills. She can feel them sliding down her throat, dry, like great pebbles. Robin drains the rest of the water, coughing once before laughing again.

“Frogs have been swallowed, Nance,” she says. Robin’s been feeling a lot better since the visit to the doctor, but right now, she feels positively high. Nancy’s grinning, their bodies pressed close together. There’s only a few lamps lit around them, and the shadows that they throw emphasize the sultry dip of Nancy’s collarbone sneaking out from under her t-shirt. Her candied lips never taper off from their curl of joy, speaking quietly of Robin. They fill the little space between them with soft laughs and quiet breaths. Robin never knew that Nancy could be this touchy . Her hands have been wandering everywhere , playing first at Robin’s knee before grazing over her waist, pausing maybe on one shoulder blade or another. At one point, she’d even pinched Robin’s earlobe, tugging it gently to look at the ring in it. She’d refastened the earring, going back to rambling about Robin’s prescription, and her deep hope for a speedy recovery. Robin had heard her, but she wasn’t really listening . All she could do was fixate on the firm bow of Nancy’s arms, or the way that her hair caught the low light and shone like a halo. She can’t stop looking at her, eyes all soft and patient.

“Hey, Nance,” Robin says when the other girl quiets. Nancy’s chin is tilted down just a hair, her brilliant eyes catching Robin’s through the angelic canopy of her dark eyelashes. Robin’s heart flutters. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Her gut coils tightly on itself, fear making a heavy stone in her stomach. Robin sucks in a shaky breath, willing her eyes to stay with Nancy’s. The older girl’s hands settle on Robin’s waist, fiddling with the edges of her new bandages over the soft fabric of her t-shirt.

“Yeah? What is it?” Nancy’s voice is a plume of violet against Robin’s already hot cheeks, and she feels herself blush even harder. She blinks, once, drawing in as even a breath as she can, before she goes to start.

Then, the door to Max’s room creaks open, and Robin feels electricity bold up her spine. She hurriedly drops Nancy, hands automatically folding in her lap, her eyes fixing themselves on the ceiling. Nancy also parts from Robin’s hold, one hand rubbing shyly at the back of her neck, wide eyes finding Max’s. The redhead may not be able to see them well, but she’s no fool. She can tell the lighting is low, and could hear the two of them hurriedly parting.

“Hey,” she starts, voice cautious. She speaks like she’s worried she’ll scare a small animal. “Did you… I- am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Robin blurts. Her hands squeeze around themselves, popping a few of her knuckles. She doesn't miss the way Nancy’s eyes absently find the floor, the way her face seems to fall. Robin realizes that everything has been silent for a bit too long, because Max leans against the doorway, eyebrows arched. Nancy cuts her off before anyone else can speak.

“Is everything okay, Max?” Gone is the butterfly-light lilt of Nancy’s sweet words. Her face hardens, though not unkindly, into something much more serious.

“Yeah,” Max says. She still sounds suspicious. “Steve just sent me to let you know that dinner will be ready soon.”

“Okay,” Robin says, trying to hide how flustered she is. “Thanks. We’ll be there in a second, firefly.” Max rolls her eyes, smiling at the endearment.

“Alright, weirdos,” she says, turning to leave. “But don’t take long. Wouldn’t want anyone to be worried-”

“Bye, Maximus!” Robin says, closing the door with the toe of her shoe. Nancy laughs, though it feels a little strained. She doesn’t really look at Robin when she comes over to her, helping her hop down from her perch.

“What were you going to tell me, Rob?” Robin cringes internally, her stomach sinking.

“It’s nothing.”

“You sure?” Nancy’s eyebrows arch, lips almost tugging into a pout. It takes all of Robin’s will to resist her.

“Yeah,” Robin tries to smile. “I’m sure.”

—

During dinner, Steve gives Robin a knowing look. She tries to act like she didn’t see it, and eats her broccoli with a growing fervor. She doesn’t hardly talk to anyone for the whole meal, focused just on eating her food and getting out of there. She loves the kids, but Christ, why are there so many of them? They’re getting to be quite loud and annoying, which is not a good match for what Robin needs while recovering from a concussion. Mike will throw something at Will, inevitably missing, hitting Lucas instead. This is a deadly mistake, because Lucas is just about the only person at the table with decent hand-eye coordination. He’ll launch something back, and doing her best to be a supportive girlfriend, Max will also throw things at Mike. She’ll miss, hitting Dustin, and so on it continues, until all the children are throwing asparagus and Doritos at one another, shouting and laughing and making Robin’s headache a thousand times worse. She groans, rubbing her eyes as Steve glares at the kids. He starts yelling at them, rambling about table manners and human decency, but all Robin can hear is the ringing in her ears. She quickly finishes the rest of her dinner, slipping away when Mike makes the hairbrained decision to throw something at Steve. The food fight is about to get dangerous.

She makes her way to her room on muscle memory alone, feeling dazed and spacy. Her overstimulation is really difficult to handle when her concussion is amplifying every possible uncomfortable sensation her body comes to experience. When she makes it to her room, she shuts the doors, opens the window, and collapses on the bed. She lays on her back, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes. She really should talk to Steve about getting glow in the dark stars for her room. She’s over here so much, and she thinks it would really be a nice touch. Robin lifts her arms over her head, tracing shapes of nothingness into the air, feeling the blood drain from her hands until her whole arm is buzzing. She lets her limbs fall back to the bed, cold and tingling. Robin sighs.

Then, there’s a soft knock at the door. It’s so tentative and calculated, Robin knows that it’s Nancy’s. She mumbles what must be a permission for Nancy’s entry, because the door opens briefly, allowing the light to flood in before it’s quickly cut off once more, and Robin can return to the indigo sugar of early darkness. Nancy makes her way over to the side of the bed, standing there stiffly.

“Are you okay?” Nancy’s arms are folded tight across her chest, and her face betrays no emotion in the low light. It makes Robin anxious.

“I’ll be fine,” Robin says, tilting her head to the side, searching out the blue flame of Nancy’s eyes.

“Are you sure?” Nancy presses. Robin groans, throwing one of her arms back into the air.

“Yeah, sure as I can be. You can go back to dinner if you’d like.” Robin rubs at her eyes, and Nancy is still standing there when she opens them.

“No,” the brunette says, bordering on indifference.

“Why not?”

“I mean,” Nancy’s words are strained and thin. “I can go, if you want.”

“I… hey, no,” Robin sighs. “You can stay if you want.”

“Okay,” Nancy says, still stiff as ever. What’s gotten into her?

“Do you want to sit?” Robin asks. Nancy doesn’t really answer.

“Are you sure that you’re alright?”

“Nance, what’s wrong?” Robin struggles to keep the exasperation from her tone.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, barely audible. When she finally does sit, she’s angled in such a way that her eyes plunge into Robin’s, pushing into her head, behind every shaky barrier she’s managed to put up, searching.

“I just want to help,” Nancy continues. Her fingers skate across Robin’s forehead, pushing her hair away from her face. Robin sucks in a sugary breath, uncertain of what to do with herself under such scrutiny.

“Nancy, you’ve done nothing but help me. I get it if you’re tired, if you want to go home, see your family, take a breather. I’ll be okay, really.”

“I can’t leave you, Rob. I just… I really don’t mind being the one to take care of you.”

“It’s such rotten work,” Robin jests, but her heart isn’t in it. Her words just come out quiet, unsure of herself. Nancy shakes her head, drawing her hand back from Robin’s temples.

“Not really,” Nancy is almost breathless in her tone, her voice an echo of something bigger inside of her, something more. “Not when it’s you.” Robin’s breath catches in her throat. This can’t be normal, gal-pal sort of behavior. There has to be something more to this (Robin needs there to be more). She bites her tongue, watching as Nancy finally pulls her eyes off Robin, allowing herself to crumple beside Robin. Her breath is heavy, her body always a little colder than expected. Their forearms fall into place beside one another. Carefully, Robin twines their fingers together, and is surprised to see how tightly Nancy squeezes her.

“I’m just,” Nancy breathes, thinking her words through. “I’m trying to be better.”

“I think you’re-” Robin cuts herself off. She doesn't want to out herself like that. “You’re really, really good, Nancy.”

“Maybe,” Nancy says. Her thumb passes over Robin’s knuckles, pressing into each one with intent. “But I can do better. You shouldn’t have had to run off like that.”

“I’m sorry, Nancy, I-”

“No, sorry, that came out wrong.” Robin turns her head to the side, watching Nancy. The brunette’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ceiling, worrying the soft skin of her lips in her teeth. “I shouldn’t have brought all those kids over. I should have stopped Mike before he made an issue. I should have made them go home, or something.”

“Don’t worry about that stuff, Nancy,” Robin says, her own relief becoming palpable when Nancy finally looks at her again. “You’re doing your best. It’s not like you’re their mom or something.”

“Isn’t it, though? They are our family. I gotta do what’s right. Sometimes, that means taking them to drive in movies, and sometimes, that means kicking them out when they make a situation worse. I want to do right by you all. You’re my family, Robin.” Nancy’s eyes have never looked more intense. Not when she was fighting The Mind Flayer a year ago, not when she was shooting down Vecna, not when she was fighting at town hall to prove Eddie’s innocence. Not when they first met. Not when Nancy first found her in the dump. Not even in Robin’s dreams. Now.

Every ounce of her soul is poured into this gaze, Robin knows it. She feels it. Nance, ever cold, now simmers next to her, and Robin feels her breath, her heartbeat, her frantic thoughts like they’re her own. They’re quiet. Listening. The rush of blood through Robin’s ears. The satin stroke of Nancy’s thumb over the back of her hand. The hymns of the insects outside. The distant laughter from the dining room. Nancy’s breath, slow, laborious.

“I need to know that you really feel like that,” Robin whispers, chest tightening up on itself. “I need to know that I mean that to you.”

“Oh, Robin,” Nancy sighs, rolling onto her side to face her fully. “Of course I do.”

“Okay,” Robin says. She blinks her eyes rapidly, trying to keep her vision clear, her mind steady. “Then there’s something I want you to know. Only one other person knows this. It’s… it’s kinda scary, and I don’t know if you’ll like me after, but… but Nancy, you’ve done so much for me. You’ve done so much for everyone. It shocked me at first, really, but you are such a wonderful human. I’m so glad I’m your friend, because I’ve never really had that before. Christ, Wheeler, you’re really one of a kind, so I want to trust you. I want to tell you the thing I’ve kept hidden above all else. And I… I can’t expect your reaction to be good, or anything like that. It’s not fair of me to expect anything of you. But I hope– holy sh*t I really, really hope – that you can know this and not hate me.” Nancy blinks, a few tears glittering at the corners of her eyes. She reaches out, arm falling on Robin’s waist, trying to comfort her.

“I mean what I said, Rob. I could never hate you.”

“Yeah? Okay, okay. Nancy, I– ugh…”

“It’s okay, Robin,” Nancy says, speaking slowly. She doesn't sound afraid, or nervous, or condescending. She’s just giving Robin some space to think.

“Sorry, I just… it’s hard, I can’t really–”

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing bad will happen. Just say it. It’ll feel easier once it’s over.”

“Okay, you’re right. I… um– Nancy, I like… I like girls. I’m a lesbian.”

Silence washes over them, cool and breathy. It swims between their ribs, roils between their steady, shared gaze, and rests atop their shoulders. It does not bite, does not constrict them, only watches, breathing just as evenly as they do. Nancy’s face remains soft the whole while, but Robin watches her think. Her brows furrow and draw upward, and then she’s smiling, just a little.

“Really?” Robin must be hallucinating, because Nancy’s voice borders on excitement .

“Yeah, really,” Robin hesitates. Nancy laughs. She can tell that Nancy’s not laughing at her. She’s just… laughing. Robin starts to feel nervous all over again. She had prepared herself for Nancy to recoil, to step away, to ask invasive questions and quietly demean her. She really has no idea what this is.

“Nancy, if you don’t like it, I can just, umm, I can go.” Robin turns her eyes back to the ceiling. Nancy’s eyes fly back open, and she pulls Robin closer to her.

“No!” Her response is instant, and probably a bit louder than is needed. “No, no, Robin, I’m sorry, no. Stay. I just–” Nancy cuts herself off with a grin. “The way you started talking about it, I thought you were going to say that you murdered someone, or stole someone’s liver. Or worse, that you’re dating Steve .”

“What? Nancy, Jesus Christ. What goes on in your head?” Nancy shrugs, laughing again.

“So,” Robin continues. “You’re not mad?”

“Nope.”

“And you’re not disgusted.”

“Not at all.”

“And you don’t hate me?”

“Never could, even if I wanted to.”

And silence coils around them again, pushing the two girls closer together. In the quiet, there is nothing owed, only what is shared. It is light, never needing to be filled. Robin stares at the ceiling, her shoulders loose and one arm wrapped around Nancy. She is only disturbed when the brunette wiggles around in her hold to catch her eye, grinning.

“Want to know something cool?” Nancy whispers between them, an unscrapable smile pulling at her lips.

“What?” Robin asks. She’s never seen Nancy go through her emotions this fast, and it’s really throwing her for a loop. Nancy just grins, never once breaking eye contact.

“I’m like you. I like girls.” Robin jaw drops. She tries to shut it quickly, knowing that this is an important moment for Nancy, and she really wants to respect that. But really? Are all of her friends gay? Oh god, Eddie’s gay, isn’t he? That handkerchief wasn’t there just for funsies. He’s just like all of them. Holy sh*t.

“Holy sh*t,” Robin manages. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” Nancy sits up, pulling Robin up with her.

“Holy sh*t…” That seems to be the only thing in Robin’s vocabulary. She suddenly understands why Nancy was laughing earlier, because there’s this sort of light blooming vivaciously inside her, and it glows through in the form of laughter.

“Holy sh*t! Nancy!” And then, Robin is wrapping her up in her arms, the two of them falling back to the bed, giggling. Nancy’s basically on top of her, face pushed against Robin’s neck, holding her so, so tightly. It’s just… wonderful. Nancy sees her, and she understands . She’s not repulsed by Robin, no, she’s delighted because they know the same struggle. They know the same joy. Robin knows that if Nancy likes women, it doesn’t mean she likes her , but god, it gives her hope . She doesn’t feel ghoulish for wanting to love one of her best friends.

She hates Vecna, hates the Rat King, hates Hawkins and its evil counterpart, but in some strange way, she’s eternally grateful. What other world would she have found herself in with, like, a dozen adopted children? In what other world is she best friends with Steve Harrington, or bantering with Dustin, or basically sisters with Max, or driving buddies with Lucas, or looking out for an angel like El, or coming out to the people she loves most? In what other world would she know the citrus sweet, candied violet joy of holding another queer woman in her arms, alive, breathing, and for once in her miserable life, unashamed?

Honestly, she really doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t care. Because in this world, she and Nancy both know what it’s like to love another girl, and it isn’t weird. It’s natural. It’s safe. It’s just, in all true, honest, unsarcastic fashion, fan- f*cking -tastic.

Robin decides that she wants to live forever in Nancy’s arms.

Chapter 6: What Happens Under the Moon

Chapter Text

It’s two weeks after the attack, and Nancy is leaning against the doorframe, humming to herself as she watches Robin make herself comfortable on the floor of her room. Robin’s been having Nancy over to her house quite a bit in the last few weeks. Even though her mother has since returned from a trip to Chicago, Nancy and Robin have still been nearly inseparable. At this point, distance, space, silence does not sit right between them. Robin thinks that this is something that comes from the body— the petal soft skin of Nancy’s hand, stretched over the jagged peaks of her knuckles, fits perfectly into the craigs of Robin’s own palm; their scars match, woven of the same blistering silver and rouge, completing each other, filling in the empty planes of healing; their voices, whispers of dry winds and marled woodland, grow between each other, through each other, into each other, until they are one in the same. Some part of Robin has grown certain that her body is carved as such just so that Nancy can be pressed in close at her side, sharing the air between them with unspoken reverence.

Of course, none of her behavior reveals any sort of sentimentality. No, right now, she’s digging out her yearbooks, throwing them down on the floor in front of her, beconning Nancy to sit at her side. The Cars play distantly, probably blaring from the kitchen radio, and the sound of a faulty lawn mower gargles from Robin’s open window. It’s starting to get late in the day, the light assuming a golden, hazy luster. It dances over the arches and bows of Nancy’s face in girlish sweeps, painting her in a soft, youthful glow. The cheshire rose of her grin, painted with her laughter as Robin shows all the things she’s drawn over her classmates’ faces over the years, blooms vividly. For once, everything is fine.

“Jesus, Buckley,” Nancy giggles, folding her knees under herself. “You really had it bad for Tammy, didn’t you?” Robin grins right back, and Tammy Thomson is the furthest thing from her mind.

“I guess I did. I don’t know, I think I just liked the idea of liking someone, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Nancy pulls the yearbook carefully from Robin’s hands, flipping through it when Robin shrugs.

“Well, like, she wasn’t some incredible person. She’s not bad or anything, but we never spoke. We sat next to each other in algebra once, freshman year. I just… she was pretty.”

“Hmm,” Nancy says, brows furrowing. Robin has come to learn (and love) this face as her concentrating face. It looks critical, cold, emotionless, but Robin knows that Nancy is just pouring all of her heart into whatever she’s reading. Robin scooches forward, trying to catch what her friend is so focused on.

“So you’re saying your tastes have changed?” Suddenly, Nancy’s eyes are flitting up from the page, catching Robin’s through the canopy of her eyelashes, something devilish glowing there. Robin feels her stomach fall out from her body.

“Umm. Well, like, yeah you could say that,” she scoots back, eyes finding a wall. “You meet more people, learn new things. Plus, Steve was right– she does sing like a muppet.” And then Nancy is giggling again, her head tilting slightly back, slightly to one side, giving Robin an uninterrupted view of her glittering cheeks, the lovely tip of her nose. Robin feels hot all over. Nancy’s in a tank top and knee length skirt that spills out from her waist, petals clinging to their laughing Aphrodite. Nancy’s bare shoulders are toned, just muscled enough that anyone in their right mind wouldn’t dream of messing with her. But still, even with her eyes that reveal a far older spirit, or her skin, warped by whorls of scar tissue, or her jaw, which is sharp enough to cut glass, Nancy looks efflorescent, godly. Nancy’s eyes open, tracing Robin’s face with something she can’t quite describe, before one of her hands is drawn magnetically to Robin’s face. Nancy’s thumb glides over a bandaid on Robin’s cheek, refixing it, pressing gently, assertively. Robin feels herself melt.

Ever since they’ve been out to each other, it has taken every ounce of Robin’s being to resist revealing her other secret to Nancy: slowly, but surely, she has been falling in love with her. Here’s the thing– Robin certainly had a crush on Tammy, but she was just pretty, nothing more than a nice face. She had a crush on Vickie, because the little red head matched her energy, and they got along well. She really did like them, and she’s not ashamed of that. But to be clear, she did not love them. They have not battled for their lives with her. They have not grown impossibly close with her, have not come to know her deepest secrets, have not healed her after all hell roared at her heels. They hadn’t. Nancy had.

Nancy’s talking about something, fingers tracing over the portraits while she rambles on. Robin watches raptly, embarrassed that she’s fallen into a trance again. It’s becoming quite an issue. Really, it’s a good thing that she isn’t the one who drives when the two of them hang out together, because if she was, Robin would have crashed the car many, many times. Honestly, it’s getting embarrassing. Nancy is her friend , and she just broke up with her long time boyfriend, so really, Robin should just stick to them being… besties? Really, she’s not sure. Because Robin is truly enamored with Nancy, but they’re supposed to be buddies, gal pals. Robin can’t stand to mess this up. Nancy is one of two people that she’s out to, and her first proper female friend in years.

Robin is jolted from her thoughts when her phone starts ringing, eyes shooting to it. She’s jumping to her feet, laughter bubbling up from Nancy all over again. Robin grins, trying to find her balance, ambling over to the phone. She picks it up from the receiver, Nancy catching her eyes once before darting back to one of the yearbooks. God, Nancy and that smug little smile. She’s brushing her hair away from her face, playing absently with it as she flips through another page. sh*t. Robin forgot to say anything.

“Hello?” she hears from the other end. Oh. It’s Steve.

“Steve! Stevie boy, how’s it going?”

“You okay, Rob?”

“Haha,” Robin says, fully faking it. She feels her face go red, turning to stare at the wall. Did she really just watch Nancy flip through the yearbook to find her own portrait? sh*t. Robin hopes that she hasn’t drawn anything too embarrassing. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Steve says, and his voice is obnoxiously fond. Stupid Steve, being her best friend, knowing how awkward she is. Robin hates him. “You shooting your shot yet?”

“I– umm, like, not really,” Robin stammers, lowering her voice a little.

“Oh my god, just go for it ,” Steve groans. Robin can already imagine him rolling his eyes, rubbing his temples while he talks.

“You don’t understand, Steve ,” Robin hisses.

“Um, yeah, actually, I do. You’re a lovesick dork , and-”

“Okay!” Robin cuts him off. One of her hands comes up to pick at the bandaid on her cheek, messing aimlessly with it, knowing Nancy will fuss over it later. “Why are you calling, Steven?”

“Gross, don’t call me that. You sound like my mom.”

“ Steve ,” Robin sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Do you and Nancy want to come over? I just cleaned out the filters on my pool this morning, and it’s, like, hot as sh*t outside. Want to come swim?”

“Oh, Stevie,” Robin swoons, knowing it’ll annoy him. “I would love to. We’ll be over in a bit!” And then, crisply, Robin’s hanging up.

—

Robin really likes Nancy’s big ass car. It’s huge, can easily be filled up with ten people, but often, it’s just the two of them. Right now, it’s only Robin, Nancy, and the spitfire, summer-painted croon of Dolly Parton spilling from the radio. It’s late in the day, and the sun will be going down soon, so any light that still thrives in this hour casts itself boldly, audaciously across their faces. Just as in Robin’s room, they are dipped in gold, glittering down the pavement of Hawkins’ residential streets. As per usual, Nancy looks like a dream– she’s got big, round sunglasses perched on her nose, wearing just a swimsuit under an oversized, floral printed shirt she stole from Robin. Her swimsuit is black, with blue and fuschia stripes running down it diagonally, and Robin’s very favorite part of it is one she cannot see. She knows that this particular swimsuit has a low cut back, one that highlights the worn muscles of Nancy’s shoulder blades, showing them off when they raise, lower, and flex. Robin likes Nancy’s shoulders a totally normal amount.

Nancy swings a hard right, then a left, and before long, they’re pulling to a stop in the Harrington driveway. Robin grins, clamoring to grab all of her stuff while Nancy switches off the car, but pauses her motions when she sees how still Nancy is.

“Nance?” Robin nearly whispers, her shoulders tensing. Nancy looks up at her, lips stretching into a thin, ill smile.

“Rob?” she responds, trying to steady her voice. Robin can tell it’s a bit of a struggle.

“You gonna be alright?” Robin picks at the plastic holding together the six pack of co*kes, trying not to look too anxious. She doesn’t like to see Nancy upset. Nancy just hums, her eyes fixing on the blank space behind Robin, nodding slightly.

They’re quiet for a while, aside from the rhythmic click of Robin picking at the plastic. Nancy’s face doesn’t descend into a deeper anxiety, but it doesn’t brighten, either. She looks like she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyes foggy and distant. Robin doesn’t know if she should reach out, comfort her friend, help soothe her, or if she should just give her space. Nancy’s arms fold around her middle, leaning back into the driver’s seat, and Robin realizes that they won’t be going anywhere for a while. The light has softened, wilting around the closing of Nancy’s shoulders, and Robin watches mournfully as she does up a few of the buttons around her neck. Nancy looks like she’s trying to melt into the seat.

The sound of her breath is getting sharper, punching through the air in sharp puffs, and suddenly, her eyes look a little glossier. Robin sighs, setting down the co*kes and reaches out to Nancy. She doesn’t touch her, though. Robin lets Nancy’s hands find their way to her own, lacing their fingers together as Nancy lets her eyes close.

“Your hands are so cold,” she mumbles, her breath shaky.

“Yeah,” Robin says, squeezing Nancy’s hands. “I am a lizard person, so it’s quite commonplace.” Nancy’s laugh flutters from her ribs, a tiny, tiny bird that Robin holds onto desperately. Nancy’s fingers wander over Robin’s palms, curious.

“You’re usually so warm,” she says, her eyes opening. They’re still so shiny. Robin’s chest tightens on itself. Never before has she seen the ocean pool in on its own grief quite like this.

“I know. The co*kes are still cold.” Robin watches as Nancy hums, her eyes wandering over anything and everything that they can. Nancy squeezes Robin’s hands tightly together, saying,

“I hope they warm up.”

“They will,” Robin assures, smiling. Nancy is so focused, and it makes her ribs feel like jelly. A minute passes, the world slipping into soft, denim twilight, and it folds over their shoulders. The dark is warm, soft, angelically blue.

“Your hands are usually the cold ones,” Robin comments, eyes finding the lights in Steve’s backyard. She’s trying to see if she can urge Nancy onwards, or just get her to somewhere safe. Nancy surprises her when she speaks up.

“Robin?” she says, and her voice is so, so thin. “I’m kinda scared about the pool.”

“Yeah?” Robin traces over the crests of Nancy’s knuckles. “How can I help?” Nancy just shrugs, shaking her head.

“I don’t know if you can.” God, the look of defeat on Nancy’s face is so acute, so painful.

“Do you want to go home, Nance?” Robin scooches a little closer, keeping her voice soft. Nancy looks up, shaking her head. The beads of her dangly earrings klack together, drawing Robin’s eyes to their glittering spill.

“I want to see everyone,” Nancy sighs, but still, she does not move. Robin gives Nancy’s hands a final squeeze before slowly drawing away. Nancy doesn’t let her go easily, their fingers trailing after each other, even after they’ve parted. Robin grabs the co*kes and a pool noodle, hopping out of the car before clamoring over to the driver’s door. She opens it swiftly, offering her hand to Nancy. The older girl takes it slowly, finally allowing herself to be pulled from the car. Nancy grabs them a set of beach towels, keeping her hand free to find Robin’s grip once again. She shuts the door behind herself, locking the vehicle before turning her eyes up towards Robin.

She can’t help but be drawn back to her dreams– how often does Robin find herself in the dark, fingers laced with those of a positively glowing Nancy? This concept seems to have taken over her brain, now allowing any room for anything else. Even with the tired stoop of Nancy’s shoulders, she’s still radiant. One of her spidery hands comes up to push hair out of her eyes, and she looks Robin straight in the eye.

“You ready, Nance?” Robin starts to lead them towards the side gate to Steve’s yard. Nancy swings their joined hands aimlessly between them.

“No, but I don’t think I ever will be.” Nancy chews on her lower lip, incisors catching on the pink, plush flesh. Her eyebrows scrunch, but she keeps on walking. “I’ll be okay, though.” Robin takes her at her word, offering one more nod before letting their hands fall apart. She reaches up to the latch, letting them into the back yard.

Any semblance of peace or resolve is immediately disintegrated. The children are on them in mere seconds, Max wrapping her arms around Robin excitedly as Lucas snatches the soda from her hands. El trails after them, a water gun in hand with Steve close behind her. She turns around every couple of steps, shooting at Mike, Will and Dustin, who stay in the pool. Robin just laughs, wrapping her arms around Max as Steve comes to rest a hand on her shoulder. He’s wearing just an apron and a pair of swim shorts, looking absolutely ridiculous. Robin picks at a bit of lace trim at his shoulder, smiling at her friend. Steve wordlessly rolls his eyes, knowing that he won’t be able to get a thought in over the ruckus of the yelling kids. Max is talking about a new band that she wants to go see in the fall, and Lucas is complaining that he wanted cherry co*ke, not this regular trash. Nancy ignores her fear just long enough to question how her brother got here before she did, and Mike is shouting about how he thinks Nancy’s a sh*t driver. El offers a rare show of her powers when she manipulates the water of the pool to rise up and over Dustin, taking the boy by surprise. Steve’s speakers are being blown out by the heavy bass of Duran Duran, and it’s all absolute chaos. Robin wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

They eat a late dinner. Their feet are dangling in the pool, swishing around in the softly lit water as they fill the thick, humid air with aimless banter. Steve, Nancy and Robin are settled together near the deep end of the pool, Max and El squished up onto the diving board, while the boys sit in the shallow end. Steve pauses their conversation every few minutes to snap at them, warning the kids not to get any food in his pool, or so help him god. Whenever he does, Nancy just shoots Robin a knowing look that has her breaking out into giggles, her face warm.

“Sure you still want six little nuggets, Stevie?” Robin teases when he sits back down. Steve blanches.

“Man, f*ck off with that. At least I’ve got plenty of training in the parent department.” Nancy smiles at him, stealing Robin’s co*ke.

“Exactly. You know how annoying it all is, and somehow, you still want kids of your own?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, almost bashful. “I think I’m good with kids. Besides, who’s gonna say no to being a stay-at-home dad?” Nancy fake gags, her legs folded neatly in front of herself. Robin knows that thus far, she’s refused to get into the pool, but at least she doesn’t shy away from the group. It relieves Robin. She laughs at her, turning her attention to Steve. She pinches his cheek, saying,

“Alright, superstar, you do that.” Steve just groans, snatching the can of soda from Nancy’s hands and stealing a sip before he hands it back to Robin. She takes the drink appreciatively, downing the rest of it before sighing. She leans against Steve, grabbing one of his hands, inquisitive.

His square, calloused fingers are now decorated with a few rings, none of which match each other. On his pinkie is a gold band with a rhinestone purple flower that glitters in the low light, while his ring finger is decorated with a thick, silver skull. On his thumb is a plain, brass band stamped with something faint, something faded. Robin brushes her own fingertips over the pieces of jewelry, fascinated. His other hand has a class ring and a silver ring with a cross. Steve watches patiently as she looks each ring over meticulously, sometimes clicking them together.

“Eddie’s?” she asks, holding up the skull. Steve nods, his face carefully neutral.

“Yup.”

“Max’s?” Robin says, pointing out the flower. Steve smiles at this, nodding.

“Yeah,” he beams, looking off to the red headed girl. “She got us matching ones from some place in the old town. It was hard to find one that would fit me.”

“I bet,” Robin smiles, moving on to his thumb. “And this one is mine, right?”

“Yeah, remember? We got it at the mall last year.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Robin smiles. Her matching ring is at home, because she hates swimming with rings on. Robin knows that hers still has its floral design still prominent on it, but Steve must have worn his so much that it’s started to fade. The once deep, clear cuts in the metal band are soft, shallow. Robin smiles to herself, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve’s such a sentimental sap, and she f*cking loves him.

“Have you been in to see him recently?” Nancy asks, voice quiet. Steve tenses a little, but he manages to respond. Eddie is still a touchy subject for them all.

“Yeah, actually. The doctors said that he shouldn’t have any long term diseases or anything.”

“Nice,” Robin says, still fiddling with Steve’s rings. She tries to slip the one off his thumb, and steals the class ring, too, for good measure. “No rabies.”

“Yeah, no rabies,” Steve says, pulling the brass ring off when Robin struggles too much with it. “But he’ll have lasting nerve damage. He probably had hypothermia after he got attacked, lying there in the cold for so long.”

“But they think he could get better?” Nancy implores, her voice cautiously hopeful.

“Maybe,” Steve says, slipping the rest of his rings onto Robin’s fingers. He smiles at her when Robin starts to clack her fingers together, the noise even, rhythmic, and strangely soothing. “He might wake up soon, who knows.”

“I hope he does,” Robin says, fingers still clicking. “I feel like we should ask him if we can keep these rings.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yes, because that’s the most important thing we have to talk to him about.” Robin just sticks her tongue out at him.

“You don’t understand, Stevie, ” she snaps her fingers at him. “His taste in jewelry is immaculate. He needs to give the scoop on where he found these masterpieces .” Nancy laughs, shaking her head as she knocks their shoulders together.

“You’re such a weirdo, Buckley,” she teases.

“I know,” Robin responds. She wonders if anyone else can hear how giddy her voice is. “And that’s why you guys love me.” Steve stands up, taking their plates and the empty can, plucking back his rings off Robin’s fingers and returning them to his own. He ruffles her hair as he starts to walk away.

“Sure Rob, sure.”

—

It’s nearing midnight, and Jonathan Byers just stopped by to pick up Will, Mike, and Dustin. Lucas is helping Steve to put dishes away, Max and El are standing in the shallow end, whispering about something, and Robin is floating in the water, sure to never stray far from where Nancy sits at the edge, the two of them talking in hushed, hurried voices. Nancy’s lying on the pavement, eyes turned starward, eyes tracing the unusually pinpricks of cosmic light above them. Robin’s trying to see if she can do flips under the water, resurfacing every few seconds to swim up to Nancy’s side, catching a few more words.

“It’s just really exciting , you know? Like, it’s a lot of work, and it’s a massive pain to try and deal with all the sophom*ores that just joined, but like, this is gonna look great to colleges. How often are you the head editor of your highschool paper?”

“Not very often,” Robin admits, rubbing the chlorine from her eyes. “I’ve never done it before.” Nancy laughs lightly.

“You know what I mean, Rob.”

“Yeah, I do,” Robin giggles, popping back under the water for a few seconds. She goes as deep as she can, giving herself a moment to lie at the bottom of the pool. She tilts her head back, feeling the thrum and pulse of the water swaying around her. It passes over her ribs in childish strokes, swaying her back and forth. She pinches her nose, blowing a few ring bubbles, watching them as they float upward.

Being underwater is very irritating to Robin’s sinuses, and makes her spinal cord feel all fizzy, but the sight of the surface far above her, the soft hands of the water, lull Robin into a peace that she is usually quite a stranger to. This is only the second time that she’s been able to go swimming after her attack, because she was paranoid about infections. Now, though, she’s trying to swim as much as she can. Steve’s pool is no ocean, but it’s lovely, anyway.

Up at the surface, the bubble rings crest, making the glow of the moon quiver and dance. Robin smiles at the sight, allowing herself to float back up. She breaks into fresh air in a few seconds, scrubbing at her eyes again. She opens them to see Nancy rolled over on her stomach, making sure that Robin resurfaces each time she disappears. Robin knows that Nancy’s trying to hide it, but she can tell how anxious it makes her friend.

“I sold one of my articles to the Indianapolis Sun ,” Nancy continues, acting like nothing happened. “And they said it was in consideration for publishing.”

“Really?” Robin asks, pulling herself to the wall of the pool. She folds her arms on the still warm pavement, setting her chin atop them while the rest of her body dangles into the pool.

“Really!” Nancy says, and her smile is so self assured. Robin can’t keep herself from smiling in turn. “It’s a piece about community and the benefits of mutual aid after the earthquake crisis.”

“Oh yeah,” Robin hums. “You let me read that one, right?”

“Right,” Nancy says.

“Yeah, that’s a really good one. Jesus, Nancy, this is so f*cking cool. You should write an article about mad cow disease, or an exposé on Hawkins Lab!”

“You think?” Nancy asks, rolling onto her side. Her tone is joking, but sweet.

“I’m not joking, man! That’s good sh*t right there. The readers will gobble. It. Up! ” Robin shoots back into the water, rolling to float on her back. Nancy sits up, eyes following her friend. Her laughter rings like bells into the darkness, and Robin’s gut warms and dances with something joyous.

She floats back to the edge of the pool where Nancy’s waiting for her, offering a goofy grin when they catch each other's eyes. Robin pulls herself up to the wall, offering her hand. Nancy looks at it, a smile never leaving her face, though her eyes betray her nerves.

“Come on in, girl,” Robin croons, wiggling her eyebrows. “The water’s fine.” Nancy’s laugh pushes out from her chest, and she’s giggling quietly, swatting Robin’s hand away.

“You’re the worst,” Nancy says.

“I know,” Robin grins. “I am.” Her palm still sits face up, waiting. In the distance, she can hear the splash of the younger girls leaving the pool, and the hiss of Steve’s sliding door as they go inside. They are alone. The thought of that sets fire in Robin’s chest, and her cheeks feel warm all over again.

Gently, soft as a moth landing on moon-kissed flowers, Nancy’s hand lands in Robin’s.

“Will you swim with me?” Robin asks, her voice coming out hushed, reverent. Nancy’s eyes are cartoonishly huge, catching and throwing the soft, blue light of the pool erratically. She’s backlit by the moon, which hums around the crown of her head, a godly halo.

“Okay,” comes the angelic response. Nancy’s voice does not shake, though it is shy.

“Hold on to me?” Nancy asks, and Robin has never seen such vulnerability in another person before.

“Of course,” she vows, holding tight to Nancy’s hand. God, what a gift this girl is. Nancy slides closer to her, legs carefully finding their way into the glowing water. They’re smooth, cleanly shaven and leanly muscled, and to Robin, entirely perfect. Her other hand finds its way easily to Nancy’s waist, gripping gently. Nancy’s free hand settles on Robin’s shoulder, fiddling subconsciously with the strap of her top. She’s wearing a dark green and jade blue color blocked bikini top and a pair of swim trunks she stole from Steve, allowing Nancy’s grip to find purchase on the dip of her exposed shoulder. Their eyes lock in the low light, Robin’s baby blue twined with the trusting bough of Nancy’s topaz. She is so, so breathless. Air is no longer what her lungs crave; no, she just needs Nancy Wheeler.

“Okay,” the brunette whispers, clutching tight to Robin. “I’m ready.”

It starts slow, with Nancy starting to lean her weight forward, before it all ends very quickly. She’s falling very fast, all at once, plunging into Robin’s hold, submitting complete faith to the blond. Robin catches her eagerly, their bodies pressed together in the sway of the water, ripples spilling in great skirts around their bodies. Nancy gasps, suddenly smiling, and Robin giggles, spinning them around. Nancy’s hands come to wrap around Robin’s shoulders, their faces suddenly very close together. Their knees knock together while they tread water, and Nancy’s face blooms into a baby pink blush. Neither one of them can bring themselves to speak. Robin is in a state of unparalleled awe. Nancy is soft in ways that Robin has not expected— the short hairs on the nape of her neck, the globes of her shoulders, the tip of her nose; the girlish trill of her laugh, the cerulean glaze of her eyes, the rapt attention that she fixes Robin with through the halo of her eyelashes. She’s soft at the inside of her biceps, where her skin is thin and silvery-white, pressing into Robin’s skin, so strong, fully unwavering, not letting the blond slip from her embrace. The smiles on their faces are so big, Robin thinks that they’ll stay like that forever.

“Oh my god,” Nancy gasps, kicking determinedly. She looks at the water, at the moon, at Robin, all with wonder.

“You’ve got it,” Robin assures, spinning them around again.

“I’m…” Nancy sucks in a breath, her ribs expanding against Robin’s. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay, Nance,” Robin promises. “I’m really proud of you.” And suddenly, Nancy can’t look anywhere but Robin’s face. The hymns of the crickets, the chant of the cicadas, the mournful cry of an owl, all of them swirl together in the minimal space between them, painting green, summer songs of… of something new . Nancy’s lips are parted, just barely, and Robin looks at her for something, anything. Slowly, a smile curls around Nancy’s features, and it’s one unlike any other Robin has seen before. It’s soft, but her lidded eyes speak of something more , something almost hungry. Nancy’s cheeks are pink, her skin smooth as moonstone, tilting just so, making her positively luminescent. Indeed, Robin does not breathe air, just Nancy.

She thinks to herself, yes, it’s finally happening. She’s gonna–

But Nancy is pulling away floating in the water on her own. The smile never leaves her face, but she allows herself to plunge under the water, swimming through the velveteen shadows before surfacing behind Robin, throwing her arms over her shoulders. Nancy’s laughing, full, heavy and brassy. The sound is everything Robin has ever wanted, and more.

It feels childish to say, but they play, and it’s fun . Robin will splash Nancy, and Nancy will slip under the surface, tugging Robin’s ankle until she, too, is submerged. They catch each other’s eyes under the water, and Robin can’t help but marvel at the way Nancy’s air dances freely around her head, or the way the lacework of the fragmented light falls over her body in sacred caresses. They laugh, they shout, they tease, they taunt, and it is so, so perfect.

Robin yelps, pulling her leg away from Nancy’s determined hold, heading toward the shallow end of the pool. The brunette catches up to her with ease, bumping into her as they sit in the shallow water, laughter abounding in the night. Robin squeezes her eyes shut, gut jumping while she giggles, trying to rub out the irritation of chlorine.

When she manages to open her eyes again, Nancy is right there, practically on top of her. Robin cackles, and grabs her by the ribs, pulling both of them into the water before Nancy drags them upright, arms wrapped around her waist. And again, they’re close. Always close. Their noses almost brush, and there’s that lidded gaze again. Their chests are heaving, coming down from a high, letting their bodies quiet. When Nancy’s lips part this time, she speaks low, like this is all a secret.

“Rob?”

“Nance?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Nancy murmurs. Robin’s gut leaps against itself, and she can’t help but quirk a smile. Nancy’s breath fans out against her cheek.

“Of course.” Robin’s words come out like prayer, and Nancy’s hold around her tightens. Her eyes are so deep, so starved. The curves of her waist, her hips, press against Robin with open ease, and Robin drowns in her. Nancy is woman like Aphrodite, woman like a storm.

“I really, really ,” that last ‘really’ is pushed from her chest like a watery purr. It sends electricity up Robin’s spine, and some part of her is sure that Nancy must feel it, because every inch of available skin is touching. “Want to kiss you.” Their noses press side to side, barely any space between their lips.

“Yeah?” Robin says, because it’s almost too good to be true. But Nancy, her angel, smiles a little bit more.

“Yeah,” Nancy says. One of her hands falls to the back of Robin’s neck, sliding ever closer. Robin sucks in a breath, before letting herself dive in.

The thing is, Robin has never really kissed anyone before. There was Ed Fitzgerald in the second grade, who kissed her on the cheek on the playground, but she promptly threw sand in his face after. There was Freddy Turner in the seventh grade, but that was on a dare, and he left her mouth feeling gross for an hour after. Robin’s never kissed another girl before. Robin’s never kissed someone she likes before. But god, she’s so close to loving Nancy, and here they are, in her best friend’s pool, brewing together under the stars, kissing .

f*ck yeah .

It starts so slow. For a few seconds, she’s able to relish the tender, chaste press of Nancy’s closed lips against her own. Then the brunette is backing away for a quick breath, arms shifting. One lands at the back of Robin’s neck, the other squarely on her lower back. Nancy looks her in the eye, her own gaze sparking, her lips tugged into a small, smug smile. Her eyes dart to her lips, and then she’s pulling Robin in again. She doesn’t stay still for this. Nancy’s lips part, pressing insistently against Robin, who responds likewise. She feels Nancy hum approvingly from deep in her chest, the noise rattling the both of them, Robin finding herself spurred onwards. Her arms twine around Nancy’s waist, pressing them together.

All her life, there’s been so much shame in skin. It’s always been ‘cover this,’ ‘dress like that,’ ‘stand up straighter,’ ‘no one wants to see that.’ Now, though, the silken brush of Nancy’s hand over the exposed ridges of her spine, or the dance of her fingers against her neck, feels unapologetic, and so, so right. They push and pull against one another, swaying in breathy waves between gasps, spilling tides of touch as Nancy positively devours her. Her teeth nip at Robin’s lower lip, grazing the soft flesh adoringly, before her tongue dances over it, soothing the swollen skin. Just the feeling of it has Robin panting out alien noises, ones that are high, breathy, desperate. It’s got her tugging Nancy into her lap, unable to bear any separation between them. Robin nips back, eyes still closed, blissfully chasing those sweet, sugary lips.

They meet over, and over, and over again. Nancy’s guiding Robin’s hand down to her thigh, groaning, growling when Robin squeezes, tongue darting out against Robin’s lip. Robin sparks, shivers, feels like she’s on fire. On the next pass, Nancy’s tongue is pressing into hers, just a suggestion, before backing off. Robin gets the hint, her own tongue pressing into Nancy’s next, before retreating. Honestly, Robin’s really proud of herself. She follows Nancy’s firm lead easily, the two of them swaying as Nancy grows more insistent. Her tongue presses deeper, drawing her head back just enough to switch the angle of their noses. Robin laughs breathlessly when Nancy kisses her again, full force and unendingly passionate. Robin nips at her lower lip once more, drawing it into her mouth as Nancy chokes out a groan. Robin feels the way the muscles around the column of her spine tense, arching their chests together as Nancy tries to swallow down her noises. She crackles like thunder, eyes positively electric when Robin catches a glimpse of them. She nips once, relishing the sweet fruit of Nancy’s skin, her vision clouded in the sugary syrup of blind adoration.

Robin lets her go, lets Nancy’s lips return to her own, and she’s ravishing her all over again. It’s scrape after scrape after slow, drawn out scrape of their lips, their tongues, their teeth clashing together. Nancy’s breath is even deeper, even more frantic, sucking in as much of Robin as she can. It makes Robin feel smug, darting out her tongue to run along the ride of Nancy’s lower set of teeth. They trade breath in short, spaced out puffs, every inhale more hungry than the last.

And slowly, Nancy is pressing more firmly, more slowly each time, until their lips part, Robin’s eyes fluttering open. She’s proud to see the lustful drops of Nancy’s eyes, the delicate flush of her porcelain cheeks, the way her chest heaves. Her hand wanders freely from Nancy’s waist, dragging up her back, before coming to caress her jaw, whispering,

“Was that alright?” It was f*cking great to Robin, but she wants to be sure that Nancy’s okay with it. The older girl just toys with the hair at her nape, giggling.

“Did you lick my teeth ?” Nancy laughs, tilting her head back. Robin furrows her brows, suddenly struck by how embarrassed she is.

“I- no– well, okay, umm,” Robin stammers, trying to wiggle away from Nancy, but the brunette just pulls her closer. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t be, cutie,” Nancy coos, gripping Robin’s biceps, pulling their chests flush together. One of her hands rests confidently at the base of Robin’s skull, while the other one wanders to cover the top of Robin’s hand where it rests on her thigh. Robin’s breath catches in her throat.

“Is it okay if I kiss you again?” Nancy murmurs. Robin nods eagerly.

“Yes please.” Her eyes dart over the way Nancy’s cheeks swell with even more red, pulling into a hearty smile. The brunette presses their lips together briefly, then to Robin’s freckled cheek before pulling back quickly, gauging her reaction. Whatever she sees must be to her satisfaction, because she brushes her nose against Robin’s slowly, sweetly. Nancy’s every breath is delectable, sensual, overwhelming. She is in Robin’s every sense, worming into her heart, looking upon her with all the throaty adoration of the ocean. Robin gets chills.

“So handsome,” Nancy mutters, half to herself, before she’s pressing their lips back together again.

They’re much less frantic this time. Their hands join atop Nancy’s thigh, Robin’s thumb running jealously over the knife edge of Nancy’s jaw, the older girl’s fingers kneading deeply into Robin’s shoulders. It’s almost lazy, the way they kiss. Each press of lips is easily returned, pushing back and forth, practically floating. They’re so caught up in the soft, intimate pull of body against body that they don’t hear it when the glass door slides open.

“Eww,” comes Steve’s voice, though he’s not judgemental. He sounds tired, exasperated. Robin jumps, sliding out from under Nancy, eyes darting frantically to her best friend.

“sh*t. sh*t! Oh my god, Jesus Chirst, kill me now. I- you– we have to… ummm…” Robin scrubs her hands over her eyes, her heart racing. Really, Steve?! “How much did you–”

Robin is promptly cut off by Nancy who holds up her middle fingers.

“Jeese, Harrington,” she spits, though there’s no malice behind it. “You have awful timing.” Steve cackles, shrugging.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Steve– !” Robin sputters, but he waves her off.

“I was gonna see if you wanted to stay the night, but it looks like you’re busy, so…”

“No,” Nancy says, standing. She brushes the water away from herself, ringing out her hair before she reaches for a dumbstruck Robin. “I should get clean, anyway. Thanks, Steve.” Her tone is stern, effectively shooing him back inside as the two women make their way out of the water.

Robin swears that her entire body is blushing.

—

The Harrington house is dark, almost silent, when they go back in. Nancy leads Robin by their loosely laced hand, grinning at her whenever their eyes meet. They take turns showering, dressing in the extra clothes they brought, before settling on the bed.

When Robin comes out, her head floaty and her skin freshly scrubbed, Nancy is waiting on their bed, first aid kit ready.

Their bed. Something about that really tickles her brain. It’s got her all warm inside as she sits down on the covers, letting Nancy go through a routine they’ve recently become quite accustomed to. Nancy carefully peels off the old, worn bandaids that remain along Robin’s back fingers gently tracing along the wounds. She wipes down the scratches, muttering something about how they’re looking better, and they’ll be able to get Robin’s stitches out soon. She puts new bandaids along the worst parts of the scratch, pressing a firm kiss to Robin’s right shoulder blade, sending her into a fit of giggles.

When Nancy’s done with her back, Robin flips around, letting the brunette gently peel off the old bandage before plucking out a new one, smoothing it affectionately over Robin’s cheek. Their eyes lock, Nancy’s cheeks going bright red before she’s laughing, too.

“Shut up,” she giggles, falling into Robin. They’re pushed back into the pillows, Nancy’s lips pressing to the arches of her brows, the corners of her eyes, her temples, her freckles, the ball of her jaw, and closer, closer, almost to the bow of Robin’s lips. Before they can meet, though, Nancy pulls smugly away, ignoring Robin’s indignant scoff as she puts the first aid kit back into the bathroom, shutting out the lights as she returns to the bed.

Nancy curls up into her side like it’s nothing, smiling sweetly when Robin looks at her. God, she’s on fire. Slowly, she presses a closed-lipped kiss to Nancy’s mouth, letting her sentiments linger, hoping her actions can say everything she’s too nervous to verbalize right now. She must get some point across, because Nancy chases after her briefly when Robin pulls back, huffing until Robin kisses her forehead. This seems to satisfy Nancy, who lets her head fall to Robin’s chest. Robin becomes acutely aware of how clearly Nancy can hear her heartbeat, letting her fingers thread through the clean, damp curls of Nancy’s hair. She takes a deep breath, and hopes her heart isn’t racing too fast.

“Hey Robin?” Nancy whispers into the black sapphire of the night.

“Yeah?” Robin’s fingers rub gently against Nancy’s warm scalp.

“Thanks,” Nancy murmurs.

“For what?” Robin almost laughs. It should be her thanking Nancy.

“For everything,” the brunette continues. “For bringing me here, for getting me to swim, for… for kissing me, for being… being Robin.” Robin’s heart jumps, and she knows that Nancy must hear it. Robin squeezes her tightly.

“Well thank you , Nancy,” Robin says, pressing her lips to the top of Nancy’s head. “Thank you for getting me after the attack, and for fixing me up, and for getting me to the doctor. Thank you for making sure I was okay, and letting me come out to you, and for being a good friend. You’re, like, an incredibly good person, Nancy Wheeler.”

“Christ,” Nancy murmurs fondly. Her hand comes to rest in the center of Robin’s chest, tracing over whatever skin her shirt leaves available, dancing along her sternum. “You’re such a dork, I love it.”

“Yeah, and you’re a massive sap.” Robin sighs, feeling a dopey grin slide onto her face.

“Hey, Nancy,” she says, tilting her head so she can look her in the eye.

“Yes?”

“You f*cking rock. I really, really care about you.” Robin says it softly, unable to hide the joy that blooms through. Nancy laughs, rolling over so their stomachs are pressed together, and she can stare right at Robin.

“You’re my favorite nerd,” Nancy coos. “And I care about you, too.”

“I want to be something to you.”

“You are. You’re… you’re everything to me, Rob.”

“Oh. Woah,” Robin chews on her lip, that big grin just getting wider. “I meant, like, official. Maybe?”

“Yeah? Like girlfriends?” Nancy proposes. Robin’s brain fires rapidly at the word, her stomach leaping.

“Yeah, girlfriends. Is that okay?” Robin asks. Nancy giggles, cupping Robin’s cheek.

“Of course it’s okay. I’d love to be your girlfriend ,” Nancy says the last word all sing-songy, making Robin blush. Nancy just smiles a little more, leaning forward to press their lips together a final time before returning to lay beside Robin.

“Goodnight, girlfriend,” she teases, lacing their fingers together over Robin’s chest. It just sounds so perfect. Robin can’t stop smiling; it’s like she can finally see through the fog, and for the first time in a year, it doesn’t feel like the world is going to end.

“‘Night, girlfriend,” Robin responds, fully serious, and entirely head over heels.