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BEFORE
Someone must’ve cut a few corners making this mall, is Robin’s first thought when the power goes out. Which isn’t really a surprise, who would want to pay full price to build a mall in the middle of nowhere, Indiana.
“That’s weird.” Steve comments, backing away from the counter, an ice cream only half scooped still in his hand.
Robin looks out through the store into the mall, and realises the entire mall has blacked out. The lights, the irritating sailor music that’s become a constant in Robin’s life the past few weeks, even the hum of the freezer has cut out.
Outside Scoops, the escalator is at a standstill, even the fountain has stopped pumping water. Everyone is silent, the breathing of hundreds of confused mall patrons the new soundtrack of the mall. Until…
Steve starts flicking the light switch up and down, as if that’ll restore power to the whole mall.
“That isn’t gonna work dingus.” Dingus is a new nickname. It’s the most accurate thing she could call him. He really is a dingus.
“Oh, really?” Steve asks with a mocking tone, before flicking the light switch back and forth even faster, a stupid look on his face, trying to irritate her.
By sheer insane coincidence, or godly intervention, as Steve slams his hand onto the light switch, the mall is suddenly aglow with light, and life, and sound again.
Steve waves his hand to gesture to the entirety of Scoops, like he had anything to do with it, and announces, “let there be light!”
As he walks back to the customer, unfinished ice cream in hand, Robin waits till his back is fully to her to let out even a half-smile. It’s so stupid. It wasn’t even funny! Steve probably even thought he actually had something to do with the lights coming on.
But after spending weeks with Steve Harrington, she thinks he’s like… infecting her or something. She’s started finding his immature jokes funny, and his lame flirting attempts are almost endearing, instead of annoying. Which is what they really are! Annoying. And gross to watch. And it strikes Robin deep in her chest to see Steve openly flirt with any girl he wants, as badly as he wants, and all he has to worry about is a little temporary embarrassment. But if Robin were to do the same…
Her life would be fucking over.
So she can’t let herself like Steve Harrington. No matter how much he may be trying to win her over.
AFTER
It’s a week to the day after Starcourt Mall burned down and killed thirty people that Steve Harrington is laid to rest. She’d spent most of the week lying in her room, trying not to remember the sound of the blast or the glass shattering.
It takes place in the only church in Hawkins. It’s relatively small, but filled to the brim with mourners.
Robin sits in the furthest pew that she can. Which hadn’t been her plan as her mom dropped her off, but she’d walked in and seen Dustin’s teary eyes, and the way Erica was clinging to her mother, and she just couldn’t face it.
She doesn’t remember much of the funeral. She thinks her brain kind of started to shut down when Dustin stood up, whimpering, to perform his eulogy, or when Steve’s mother started wailing, clinging onto the casket and begging them not to take her baby from her.
Robin doesn’t move as everyone else leaves to bury Steve. She stays inside the cool church, unwilling to watch an empty coffin get swallowed beneath the dirt. Steve’s already entombed beneath the caved in mall. Robin had to watch it happen once, she can’t handle that again.
She’s staring blankly at the nearest stained glass window when the elderly priest approaches.
“Saint Stephen.” He says, with a soft-spoken voice.
Steve’s name jolts her out of her thoughts, and she stands quickly, as if she needs to protect herself from a mild-mannered religious guy. She’s been jumpy a lot recently. Seeing things in shadows. It’s natural after everything, she guesses. Robin just wished she had someone to speak to about it.
“What?” She asks him shakily. He seems to notice Robin’s fear, and leans back slightly.
“The window—” he gestures towards the stained glass Robin had been staring at, speaking even softer than he had before— “it’s of Saint Stephen.”
Robin hums, looking back at the image. Knowing this saint and Steve share a name makes her think they should look similar. But the saint doesn’t really look like much of anything, just blobs of coloured glass side by side in the shape of a person. She vaguely wonders how the priest can tell one from the other.
“What’d he do?” She asks the priest. “Saint Stephen, I mean.”
The priest nods, thinking.
“Well, he was a deacon.”
“A… deacon?” Robin asks. Her parents have never been the religious type, she’s actually never even really been in this church before. She thinks if her mind were clear she’d be more worried that somehow God, or whoever, would see her step foot in the church and smite her. Whatever that means. But her mind is just so wrapped up in her grief that she can’t even bring herself to care.
“An ordained minister.” The priest says, like Robin should know what it means.
“Oh.”
Robin had kinda thought…. She doesn’t even know really. She just kinda hoped it meant something; her looking at Saint Stephen’s visage after Steve’s funeral. But she’s pretty sure Steve wasn’t a deacon. She’s not even sure he was religious, though they never really talked about it. Maybe he did believe, and he’s somewhere else now. In heaven. At peace.
The priest must spot her blank look. “He was the first Christian martyr.” He explains further.
“Oh.”
Robin’s been told that Steve isn’t the first casualty of the dark version of Hawkins, and she knows that Chief Hopper died with him, but…
There’s something about that that feels right.
“Saint Stephen is also known for his last words.”
“His last words?” Robin asks, voice thick, her eyes tracking some of the more intricate details of the stained glass.
“He was stoned to death, you see, and before he died, he prayed to the Lord. That He would not hold this sin against his killers.”
Robin stills, keeping her eyes on the stained glass window. “Huh.” Robin’s voice cracks, and she presses her lips together. She doesn’t think she could make another sound without breaking down.
The priest turns to leave, then hesitates. “Funerals can be difficult, especially when it’s for a boy so young. But I find it makes them easier when you think about the good a person gave to your life. Rather than the misery that consumes you when they leave.”
The priest is long gone before Robin can bring herself to leave the church.
BEFORE
It feels like Robin’s floating. Floating right up through metal, and thousands of miles of earth, and an entire mall till she reaches the sky.
She’s watching the stars blink out around her, even as she feels like tight bite of her restraints. Restraints. Russian restraints. Robin can’t stop herself from laughing. It’s just so ridiculous! Her, Robin Buckley, tied to Steve Harrington in a Russian bunker, surrounded by evil Russian spies. It’s just too trippy!
“You think this is funny, сука?”
Robin laughs even harder, the restraint digging into her chest. She can even hear Steve laughing along with her and feel his shoulder shaking against her back. She doesn’t know what he’s laughing at though, unless the drugs have given them a mental connection and he can read her mind! That would be so cool.
The Russian guy is still staring at her, and Robin figures she should answer his question. “Yeah,” Robin giggles, “pretty fucking funny.”
The slap is sudden, and stings high on her cheekbone. A jolt of fear runs through her and her stomach drops like she’s on a rollercoaster. Whatever they gave her… It’s like a blanket between her and the rest of the world. Everything feels soft and silly, even now.
“Robin? Hey, Robin? Are you okay?” Robin jolts around as Steve moves, his voice wavering.
“I am growing bored of your games.” The Russian guy tells her with a thick accent.
“Well, stop playing.” Robin drawls out with a grin. “Ow!” Robin yelps when her jaw is grabbed in a vice grip.
She can hear Steve calling out for her again, but Robin can’t look away from their interrogator.
He shakes her head. “Who do you work for?” He asks for the millionth time, breath hot on Robin’s face. She tries to pull back, her head clacking against Steve’s.
“We work for the mall.” Steve says with a breathless laugh, and Robin’s face is finally freed. She stretches her jaw until it clicks, as Steve captures their interrogators attention.
Her mind immediately starts to drift, the fast Russian being spoken behind her, and Steve’s frantic replies quieting. It’s like she’s having a hard time staying in her body. Like everything that’s happening around her is too horrible for her brain to want to see. So instead she flies away. Far, far away from this stupid, stupid chair that she’s stuck to.
Steve’s panicked cry brings her attention right back to the sterile walls, and cold room.
“Hey! No, hey, please! I seriously- I mean it! We’re nothing. We’re nobody! Please, I’m just some dumb kid, okay!”
“Steve! Steve!” Robin tries to lean back, and look over her shoulder. She needs to see what’s happening, she has to help, she has to do something! She can’t let them hurt Steve. “Don’t touch him! Leave him alone!” She wants to lash out, to scream and jerk the chairs around and get Steve away from them, but she doesn’t even know what they’re doing to him. She doesn’t want to make it worse. She doesn’t want to be the reason Steve’s screaming like that, because that’s what he’s doing now. Screaming. Sobbing. It’s this awful, half-broken noise. Robin can’t stop herself from sobbing with him. She wants to wrap Steve in her arms and take him far away from here. Maybe in the backroom of Scoops, and she’ll make fun of his flirting, and try not to laugh at his dumb jokes, and she won’t ever have to know what Steve screaming sounds like.
The Russian walks back around to face Robin, pliers in hand. They’re holding onto something small and bloody. It’s… Robin frowns at it. It looks like… A fingernail. Steve’s fingernail. Robin feels bile start to rise up her throat. That’s… They can’t have… Steve’s stopped screaming, but he’s still whimpering. Because they– they ripped out his fucking fingernail.
“Do you feel like laughing now, сука?”
AFTER
A few days after Steve’s funeral, Robin's planning to spend the day at Steve’s house.
She wasn’t the one that organised the trip, but Dustin had called her asking her to come in a small voice that seemed entirely at odds with the boy she had known. One of his friends had apparently suggested the visit, to give them a chance to mourn and remember Steve in a more private way.
Robin had told him she’d come, but she doesn’t have a car, and she can’t see her parents wanting her to move through Hawkins alone. They’ve been clingy since Starcourt. Which Robin finds kinda funny sometimes. They’re worried about their daughter who was in a fire, who lost someone, but they don’t even know what really happened. Not about the Russians, or the torture, or even what really happened to Steve. Her own government made sure she knew what would happen if she told anyone anything. Her parents had long instilled in her a fear of "the man”, but for the first time in her life, she’s realising their fear isn’t totally unfounded.
Dustin had said she didn’t need to worry about getting there, that Mike was getting dropped off too, and Robin was a stop on the way.
What he didn’t tell her was that the one picking her up was not a parent, and was, in fact, Nancy Wheeler.
After waiting for a few minutes sat on the curb in front of her house, her dad watching through the window, Nancy pulls up. Mike, who Robin has come to know as the boy that abused the bell in Scoops, is sat up front, so Robin slid into the backseat.
Robin doesn’t have anything against Nancy, except in the distant, childish way anyone doesn’t like the person their friend left them for. It was just… Nancy never really seemed like the type of person that’d get along with Robin.
Though, apparently the girl hunted monsters, and Robin’s been wrong about people before. It only took a trip down an elevator to hell to realise it.
Still, it’s an awkward five minutes of silence before Nancy speaks.
“You worked with Steve, right?” She asks.
Before Robin can answer, Mike rolls his eyes, and his whole head with it, “I told you she did.”
“I did.” Robin confirms quietly.
“And you were… you know. Dustin and Erica told us that you and Steve were, uh- You were trapped beneath the mall with him.” There’s beat of silence. “God, I’m– Sorry, I shouldn’t have– I don’t know why I brought that up.”
Robin just shrinks back in her seat slightly, shaking her head. “It’s… fine. Um, are you coming in with us? To visit Steve’s parents?”
“No.” Nancy says immediately, “no, I can’t– I just– No, I’m just dropping you off.”’ Nancy’s shaking her head, twitching almost.
“I—” Mike cuts Robin off.
“And picking us up, right?” Nancy rolls her eyes, settling back into the driver’s seat, breathing out an annoyed sigh. Robin isn’t sure Nancy even realises what Mike did.
“Yes, Mike. And picking you up. I told Mom I would, right?”
“Are you hanging out with Jonathan today?”
“What? No. Why would you–?”
“I don’t know. You haven’t seen him in a while, he’s dropping Will off. I just thought––”
“Well, I’m not. Okay Mike?”
“Fine, okay. God!”
Robin doesn’t have siblings, so she doesn’t really know what this kind of relationship looks like, if this arguing is normal. But it’s definitely uncomfortable to be forced to watch from the back of a car.
Luckily it’s not long before they pull up to Steve’s house. It never takes long to get anywhere in Hawkins, for better or worse.
Mike’s out of the car like a shot, but before Robin can move to follow him, Nancy stops her, and turns in her seat to look at her.
“Listen, I just wanted to say… I know– I mean. This stuff… it’s a lot, and I just… it can be hard– It’s harder when you’re dealing with it alone, and I, well, Steve was that for me, and I… I don’t think I could’ve gotten through that first year without him, uh. Just. It can help, to talk about it. And I’m not saying– You don’t have to talk to me. I just… yeah. Sorry. Never mind, it– ignore me.” Nancy drifts off, looking out the window and up at the house sadly.
It’s weird, how much Robin feels like her entire life has caved in on itself and she only really knew Steve for a month. Nancy dated him for an entire year.
“You can come in, you know?” Robin tells her. “I know he’s your ex, but… If there are old pictures, or anything, I don’t know. But, like you said, it can help to not be alone.”
“I– I can’t.” Nancy says, but by the time Robin reaches the front door, Nancy is right behind her.
BEFORE
The smell of puke is churning her stomach, but she tries to swallow back her gags. If she starts to vomit again, so will Steve, and she can’t go through that cycle for the third time.
Though the stench is really getting to her, Robin’s glad she’s sober again. Or as sober as she can be. She hated being stuck floating around in her own mind, feeling her fear rise, but not being able to protect herself. Not that she really could with her arms tied together, but still. The Russians drugging her took away any illusion she had of control.
She doesn’t think Steve is equally as glad to be back to sobriety. He’s shaking worse now than he had been high; though losing three fingernails probably does that to a person.
“Are you, uh–” Robin tries to clear her throat, but most of the croak is coming from her thirst, and she doubts the Russians will want to help with that. God, imagine dying of thirst in a fucking Russian bunker. “Are you okay?”
Robin can feel Steve’s sigh. “I’m okay.”
Robin doesn’t mean to scoff, but it just slips out. She just figures they’re beyond empty platitudes at this point.
“I guess I’ve been better.” Steve wearily confesses. Robin aches to comfort him. They’re tied so tightly she can feel Steve’s heartbeat through her back, but she can’t even hold his hand.
“Do you think it’s all, like, gone out of our system. We’ve, uh, sobered up?”
“I think so. I don’t know, maybe Russian drugs are different.”
It’s almost ironic that Robin’s first experience with drugs were given to her by a foreign country’s government. Hell of a story, at the very least.
“Are they worse than American drugs?” She asks. She’s never partied with, well, anyone before. But she’s heard tales of the kinds of parties people like Steve used to attend, and they were very different from her Friday nights.
“I don’t know. Comedown’s grosser, but quick.” Steve jokes, “but the high wasn’t all that fun.”
“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I doubt truth serum is meant to be fun.”
“Truth serum?” Steve asks, his head turning slightly towards hers. She can feel his legendary hair against the side of her face. Deflated from it’s usual height, but probably still swoon worthy.
“Well, that’s what its supposed to do, right? Get us to spill all our deepest secrets.”
“Hah, pathetic truth serum.”
Huh. It kind of was. Neither of them had told the Russians anything. Not that Robin knew anything, but Steve and Dustin had told her, before they got captured and Dustin and Erica escaped the base, that they’d seen ‘The Gate’ before. Steve hadn’t said anything about it to the Russians. Even as he got his fingernails ripped off.
He’s pretty fucking brave, actually. Robin’s sure if she’d been the centre of their attention she’d have told them any secret she had just to get them to stop.
“Are you keeping secrets from the Russians, Steve?” Robin jokes, mock gasping, and Steve chuckles half-heartedly. “You can tell me. There’s no one else around.” She lowers her voice, and looks around the empty room, quietly laughing.
But Steve is silent, thinking.
“You don’t actually have to—” Robin rushes to tell him.
“No, uh,” Steve cuts her off, “how about… I’ve laughed harder this summer than I have laughed… in a really long time.” It’s heartfelt in a way Robin wasn’t expecting.
Her instinct was to tell him a dumb joke about how she’s almost peed herself today. But after that…
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a best friend before, or, even just, anyone I’m really close to. Before this summer, I was actually kind of… lonely.”
“…Before?” Steve asks, and Robin lets out a breathy laugh.
“Yeah, dingus. It wasn’t actually hell spending time with you. It was fun.” She almost feels like she’s making death confessions. Like deep down she knows they aren’t getting out of here.
“To be honest, I should’ve just been hanging out with you this whole time.” Steve murmurs, quiet, like he isn’t sure he wants Robin to overhear. “I mean, you’re hilarious. You’re smart, way smarter than me. And you’re so cool. Maybe not in a bullshit high school way, but… honestly that just makes you even cooler. And, you know, you’re not fourteen. So,” Steve laughs, “that’s a step up from my other friends.”
Robin freezes for a second. Steve must feel how still she is, because a moment later he’s asking if she’s okay.
And she is. But she also kind of feels like she’s being burned alive. No one’s ever said anything like that about her before. No one’s cared enough about her to.
Steve is… baring his soul to her. But he doesn’t even know her. If he did, he probably wouldn’t even want to be her friend. He wouldn’t be saying all this stuff to her. He’d be shying away as much as the restraints could allow him.
But… she still wants him to know. If she’s gonna die down here, and that’s looking more and more likely as the hours pass, she wants to be on equal footing. To bare her soul right back.
Robin thinks of the drugs that had been coursing through her veins earlier, and the word vomit she’d suffered, her inability to keep her mouth shut.
She feels clear headed now, and she knows it’s her decision when she opens her mouth, and chooses to tell Steve the truth.
AFTER
If the Robin Buckley of just two months prior had found out she was having a meal with Steve Harrington’s parents, she’d have laughed until she dropped dead from lack of oxygen. Or maybe just shot herself in the head to prevent that dinner from ever happening.
But here she and Dustin were.
Out of everyone that had been at the Harrington's the week before, they’d spoken the most to Steve’s mother, Diane Harrington, and before they left she’d begged them to come over for dinner the next week. And after all she’d done, specifically giving them whatever they cried over of Steve’s, they felt they owed it to her in some way.
Dustin’s wearing Steve’s old jacket that Mrs. Harrington had given to him, and when she opens the door to let them in, Steve’s mom stifles a small sob at the sight, before grinning at them and thanking them for coming.
The dinner is quiet, and a little awkward. The conversation stilted, and mostly about Steve.
About half an hour in, Mrs. Harrington is on her fourth glass of wine when it happens.
She’s asking Dustin a question about Steve when Mr. Harrington winces, and his wife catches it.
“I’m sorry, Richard. Is my talking about our son bothering you?”
“It’s fine, Diane.” He replies, more focused on cutting up his salmon.
“I know you like your meals in complete silence, but I think our young guests are enjoying this conversation. Aren’t you?” Mrs. Harrington turns to them, taking another sip of wine, and Robin and Dustin both just stare at her.
“Uh—” Dustin tries to answer, but Mr. Harrington interrupts.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to answer that. Diane, we’ll have this conversation when our guests are gone.”
“What conversation? Are you going to forbid me from mentioning Stephen?”
Steve’s dad sighed, and set his knife and fork down, “I just don’t want our guests to be uncomfortable. Because I know if we speak, you'll be using them the way you’d use Stephen in arguments—”
“Use my son?” Mrs. Harrington responds, laughing, “I didn’t use him. I’m sorry Stephen loved me more, and wanted to defend me. But maybe if you weren’t such a cold-hearted bastard—”
Steve’s dad throws his hands up and sighs. “Okay. Are you enjoying yourself? Have you gotten the attention you wanted? I’m sorry I’m finding it difficult to talk about our dead son every single minute of the day.”
The two of them were almost methodical in their argument, as if each knew exactly what the other was about to snap back. Though, there were gaps in the argument, like they kept expecting someone to step in. Robin wonders vaguely if this is what family dinners were like when Steve was alive. If he was forced to watch his parents argue. If his mom really did involve him like his dad said.
“Why? Is the guilt getting to you?”
“What?” Mr. Harrington’s voice seems to waver.
“The guilt. You helped build that fucking mall, and you forced Stephen to get a job there. We both know it’s your fault. You helped kill my baby boy. So, is the guilt getting to you?” Steve’s mom smiles sardonically at his dad, and the entire table freezes.
Steve’s dad’s face seems to crumple in on itself the more Mrs. Harrington speaks.
“How dare you– You think you have the fucking right–?” He starts off every sentence angry, but it weakens and wavers as he goes on, cracking right down the middle.
“I have every fucking right! You built his goddamned coffin. You built his entire fucking tomb, and then you forced him into it. You pushed and shoved until he fell in, and then you let him burn to death.” Mrs. Harrington shrieks, not even attempting to hold back her tears.
Steve’s dad looks shocked into silence. Robin looks down at Dustin, and watches as tears run down his cheeks. She shifts her hand, and holds onto his.
“You killed my fucking baby! You took him from me! I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your fucking life, Richard. I’ll talk about Stephen every damn day. And I want you to feel guilty every fucking time. Okay?”
“Diane—”
That’s when Steve’s mom throws her glass of wine at Steve’s dad’s head.
THEN
They were so close. Robin thinks that’s almost the worst part. They’d been saved. They were closing the gate. They’d be topside so soon.
But that was when the Russian soldier charged in.
Robin stumbled to the side, Steve following after her, ducking out of the way of the fight. They were in no condition to defend themselves.
But this Russian wasn’t after them, he was after Hopper. The fight was quick, brutal, and it looked like Hopper was losing.
That’s probably why Steve ran after them, out to the machine. He couldn’t just stand there and watch Hopper die. He told her to close the gate, no matter what.
Robin and Mrs. Byers watched from behind the glass in the observatory as Hopper tossed the Russian into the machine, and it seemed to explode outwards. Still, somehow, working, but throwing off arcs of light and electricity. She could barely see Steve through it, just a little figure in blue. Trapped.
“No…”
Robin felt… numb. Like she wasn’t in control of her own actions, but it was her hand that moved to turn off the machine with Mrs. Byers. It was her that broke down when the smoke cleared, running out after them. It was her who cried together with Mrs. Byers, and realised what she’d done.
She’d killed Steve.
She’d killed her only friend. The only person that could or would ever know her.
He was dead, and it was her fault.
BEFORE
Robin’s already gotten fairly used to snot-nosed kids in the week she’s been working at Scoops Ahoy. They pretty much make up her entire customer base. (Speaking of, Robin’s spent the last week surrounded by brats hopped up on ice cream, and she’s kinda starting to realise why her parents refused to let her eat sugar as a kid.)
Suffice to say, four kids marching up to the counter and obnoxiously ringing the bell while staring right in her eyes is annoying, but not exactly out of the usual. Honestly, she’s seen grown adults act worse.
“Hell-o. I can see you.” Robin says over the dinging noise.
The dark-haired boy finally stops hitting the bell, and just looks at her expectantly. As if she should already know his ice cream order, and have it prepared for his arrival.
“We’re here to see Steve.” The only girl in the group says.
“Uh, is he here?” A black boy asks.
“Why?” Robin asks, leaning back against the counter behind her.
“Can you just get him?” The bell boy asks, exasperatedly.
Robin rolls her eyes, but calls out, “Steve!”
“I’m on break!” Steve calls back.
Robin watches the kids perk up at Steve’s voice, and shouts back again, “Well, we have customers asking for you personally! So you’re gonna have to cut it short.”
She can’t physically see Steve, but she’s already grown so accustomed to his dramatic mannerisms, she can perfectly envision the over-the-top eye roll, and huffing as he gets to his feet.
He bursts through the door, hatless, hand already settling on his hip when he spots the kids.
“Oh, hey!” Steve brightens up, “you came to visit.”
“We’re here for the free ice cream, sailor.” The girl tells him with a grin, saluting Steve.
Steve rolls his eyes, picking up a scooper and twirling it in his hands.
“Strawberry?” He points the scooper at the girl, who nods, and asks for sprinkles on top.
Robin frowns as she realises that Steve actually… knows these random children? He was expecting them to come, and even seems to like them? It’s so at odds with the Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington that Robin knew from school that she’s having trouble reconciling the two images.
“Steve, aren’t you gonna introduce me to your… children?” Robin asks flatly, she doesn’t want Steve to think she’s actually interested in his life, even if she is. Though the way Steve grins at her makes her think he’s already realised.
He huffs out a laugh, “They’re not mine. Just vultures willing to pick apart my carcass for whatever they can.”
All four children grin big, innocent smiles. But make no attempt to defend themselves.
“Not anything,” a boy with a really unfortunate haircut points out, a small smile on his face, “ice cream.”
Steve points them out, one by one, “That’s Will, Mike, Max, and Lucas.” Steve hands over Max’s ice cream as he says her name, and she gladly starts tucking in. “I, uh, babysit them.” Mike pulls a face at that, but none of the kids dispute it. Steve Harrington. Babysitting.
Lucas elbows Mike away from the counter and asks, “could I have a U.S.S. Butterscotch?”
“Coming right up.”
“Do they have something on you? Is this… blackmail? Why are you giving them free ice cream.” It’s just… Steve? Mr. Cool? Mr. Ladies Man? King of Hawkins High? What the hell is he doing with a bunch of preteens? It’s gotta be some kind of forced community service type shit.
“Uh, it’s because we’re adorable, and he loves us, and we’re the best thing to ever happen in his life.” Max tells her, struggling to eat her ice cream as it drips down the side of the cone.
“Very funny.” Steve says sarcastically, handing over Lucas’ cup and getting started on Mike’s chocolate.
“I’m going on my break.” Robin tells them all, scooting around Steve and heading through the door to the backroom. She can hear Steve’s muffled complaints that he’s supposed to be on his break, but he doesn’t come back round.
She just can’t make any sense of it. Steve Harrington willingly giving away free ice cream, and not even to his jerk friends, but to kids. What the hell is up with that?
AFTER
“You can't be serious?” Robin asks. "This is... it's too much."
“Don't be silly! You said you’re learning to drive. You'll need something to drive. Besides, I don’t– Seeing his car just sitting there, gathering dust, I can’t do it. I’d rather it be used by one of his friends.”
Holy shit, Robin thinks, rich people are insane.
“I can’t take this, Mrs. Harrington.”
“Oh, please, it’s Diane, and don’t even think about it.”
“I… I… Thank you.” Robin mumbles. Looking down at the car keys in her hands. Steve's car keys. The keys he'd spin in his hand everytime they finished closing the store and started walking to the parking lot. The car Steve would always offer to drive her home in, but she'd always turn him down.
It’s even trippier looking at the actual car. Steve’s car. The same one she used to watch him pull out of the school parking lot with and roll her eyes. Thinking that no teenager needed a car that expensive, and he was either spoiled to an insane degree, or his parents replaced affection with money. She doesn't thinks she'll ever be able to look at the car and think, hers. But there is something about being able to sit in the seat Steve did for years. To drive the car he drove. His first car, and her first car. Even just sitting in the front seat makes her feel closer to him somehow. Breathing in the slightly stale air, and placing her hands on the wheel.
“Oh, Stephen might have left a few things in there. So, you might have to give it a clean.” Steve’s mom had said. Robin had found old mixtapes, loose change, a pack of cigarettes, and a loose stick of gum, but Robin wasn’t expecting one of Steve’s few things to be a baseball bat with a dozen nails jutting out the end.
“Holy shit. That’s where it is.” Lucas says, looking down at the thing in awe.
“You knew about this freaky bat?” Robin asks him.
“It’s what he used to fight the demogorgon and the demodogs.” Dustin tells her, and she’s heard the stories, but she doesn’t think anyone ever specified Steve’s weapon of choice, nor the nails hammered into it. "We tried looking for it the first time we came here. We didn't want his parents to find it. But here it is."
Max reaches in slowly, almost with reverence, and carefully picks it up, running her hand over the smooth handle of the bat.
“Careful,” Robin yelps, “you’ll need a tetanus shot after touching that thing!”
Max passes it to Lucas, who twirls it and hefts it up, as if fighting imaginary monsters. He goes to pass it to Dustin, but Dustin just shakes his head.
“You should keep it.” He tells Lucas.
“What?”
“I have Steve's jacket. Max has his walkman and cassette tapes. You should take his bat. You've always been our fighter, and I think he'd want you to."
Lucas seems to brighten up and flourish under the compliment. “Really?” He asks breathily, looking at the bat like it was a mythical object. Like he'd just pulled Exaclibur from the stone and learned he'd be king.
“Really. He’d trust you with it, more than any of us at least.” Dustin huffs out what could almost be a laugh, and it’s really the first time he’s ever seemed light while talking about Steve, and not clouded with grief and misery.
She thinks that’s why Lucas decides to keep it. To be the hero his hero thought he could be, and because the idea made Dustin smile for the first time in weeks.
BEFORE
The calm peace hadn’t lasted long before the room was once again filled with the scent of blood and the sound of screaming.
She doesn’t know if it’s sexism, or if the Russians just think Steve’s the one in the know, but the focus of their rage seems to be him.
Though Robin’s nose does still ache from the punch and blood itches down her lip, they hadn’t even hit her then to ask a question. It was purely because she was yelling out, trying to get them to leave Steve alone. She guesses they didn’t like the interruption.
She’s heard the crunch of bones twice now. She’s listened to Steve scream until he’s started losing his voice. But he’s still not telling them shit. She wants to shake him, tell him that it’s not worth it. Whatever he’s keeping from them can’t deserve all this pain.
But Steve had told her, after she’d told him about Tammy and he’d laughed and accepted her without a second though, she’d asked about this secret. About what it is he knows, and isn't telling their captives.
He hadn’t told her exactly, but he said he’ll do anything to not put anyone else in danger. And telling the Russians would mean putting people in danger.
So, Robin’s just been stuck here, tied to Steve, trying to press comfort back into him.
“Doctor Zharkov will break more.” A deep Russian voice warns, and Steve sighs.
“Yeah, we’ve established that.” He replies, his voice so rough it must hurt to speak.
Robin can only listen as she hears a sharp intake of breath, and feels Steve wince as he prepares for more pain.
But then something happens.
There’s a noise, a grunt maybe, from outside the door. Footsteps. Then the door explodes inwards.
Robin yelps and flinches away as a spray of bullets enters the room, followed by the sound of two thumps.
“Hopper!” Steve calls out, sounding happier than he has in hours. “Holy shit. I can’t believe you’re here.”
Chief Hopper is followed by a small woman Robin recognises, and a balding man she definitely doesn’t.
“Shit, kid.” Hopper says as he gets close, gently brushing a hand on Steve’s shoulder, then working to loosen his bonds. The smaller woman does the same for Robin, and she can finally take a full breath again.
“Thank you.” Robin murmurs, and the woman looks up at her with a sad smile.
“You okay, honey?”
Robin nods, rubbing away the dried, flaky blood on her upper lip.
When she turns and sees Steve, he looks both better and worse than she was expecting. He’s hunched over slightly, leaning heavily against Hopper. His face is more blood and bruise than anything else, and one of his hands won’t stop shaking. It’s missing four nails, and his last two fingers look crooked and wrong.
But he smiles when he sees her, and reaches out his good hand to hold hers and check her over.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and Robin almost laughs.
“Am I okay? God, look at you dingus.”
“I’ve had worse.” Steve smiles, his teeth stained with blood.
“Not that this isn’t touching, but we have places to be.” The balding man tells them from the door.
“Right.” Hopper nods, bending down and taking the gun attached to Steve and Robin’s tormentor’s belt. “You kids okay to walk?”
“Of course.” Steve says quickly.
“We’ve just gotta shut down the machine, and close the gate. After that, we’ll get you two looked at.”
“As soon as possible.” The small woman adds on, looking at Steve worriedly.
“Thanks, Mrs. Byers, Hopper. For coming, I mean.” Steve says, shifting awkwardly. “Are Dustin and Erica okay?”
“They’re fine, kid.” Hopper tells them as they start walking down the hallway. It’s emptied of people, though they still try to walk in formation, with the adults surrounded Steve and Robin, as if they're just prisoners being led from one room to the next. “They’re with Nancy. Far away from here.”
Steve relaxes, closing his eyes briefly and letting out a breath. “Thank god.”
Robin feels the same relief. It makes it a little more worth it, she thinks. Knowing that the kids managed to get out, even if they didn’t.
AFTER
If asked, Robin wouldn’t be able to explain why she chose the tape she did. Which is probably why she didn’t tell the kids which one she slipped into her bag.
When they first find the old, unmarked cardboard box in Steve’s closet, Robin’s so sure it’ll be something a little… weird. Then she’s expecting something a little weird to be on the VHS tapes inside.
Some are marked with dates, like 08-12-83. But most list off various birthdays of Steve from after the age of twelve. They ask Mrs. Harrington about them, but she just shrugs her shoulders, saying “Stephen never really told me what he was up to.” Before wandering up the stairs.
They, meaning Robin, Mike, Max, Lucas, and Dustin, watch as many as they can in one sitting. They watch Steve celebrate birthday after birthday. They watch as his hair starts to take form, and as his style develops, and as he outgrows Tommy H. and as he gets better and better at beer pong. They watch him down drink after drink until he jumps from his roof to his pool on a dare. It all starts to blend before her eyes, but none of them can stop watching until the sky grows dark, and parents come to pick up their children.
Just before they leave, Mrs. Harrington dumps another box at their feet. She tells them this one was in the attic, and she’d known she had a video of Steve as a child up there. When they ask, she says they’re welcome to take any tapes they want home with them.
Dustin loudly announces he wants the tape of Steve as a child, Lucas chooses the tape of Steve’s winning shot in some basketball game, and Max picks out Steve’s fifteenth birthday party.
Much like Robin, Mike doesn’t tell the others which one he takes, he just quietly shoves it into his bag.
Of course, as soon as she gets home after that, Robin runs upstairs, and pulls the tape out, ‘Steve’s 13th Birthday!!!!’ written along the side, and rewatches it.
It hits her all over again how young Steve is, how little he looks as he’s unwrapping his present of cigarettes and celebrating with Tommy and Carol. Watching as Steve blows out his candles, and parties, and drinks vodka at way too young an age.
It just makes Robin ache.
She wants to have known him. She wants to have been childhood friends; to have raced alongside each other on their bikes, and told each other secrets at every sleepover. She wishes they'd gotten to celebrate every single birthday together. Because Robin didn’t even get to celebrate the one Steve had with her. He turned eighteen while being tortured, and Robin didn’t even know.
Sometimes Robin is worried she only mourns Steve because of who he could’ve been for her. Because he was the only person in the world that knew all of her, and loved her as she was.
But then she thinks about his dorky laugh, and stupid handshake, and his many, many terrible pick up lines, and all the times she had to fight to keep a straight face. She remembers the way he kept trying to reassure her, and keep her upbeat. Even down there. Even after being tortured.
And she knows she just misses him. She just wants to have known all of him. She wants to unravel all his secrets. But all she has is a five-year-old tape. So she guesses that’ll have to be enough.
BEFORE
This has to be some big cosmic joke. Or Robin has the worst karma in the world. She has to have been some facist dictator in a past life, because only that magnitude of evil could justify Robin turning up to Scoops Ahoy, her new summer job, to find Steve Harrington her new coworker.
Robin knows Steve Harrington. Everyone at school knows Steve Harrington. He’s probably one of the most talked about students in school, all because of his stupid hair, and “dreamy eyes”, Ugh.
Does Robin even want to learn to drive that badly anyway? She could just quit, and keep riding her bike to school in her senior year. Who cares? Is driving really worth a summer spent around Steve fucking Harrington.
In the one class they shared Robin’s sophomore year, Steve bombarded the teacher with dumb questions, and ate food in class, and his stupid hair was so tall Robin couldn’t even see past it. But no one could ever pull their eyes from him, not even when Robin was right… He didn’t deserve Tammy– or any of those girls looking at him in awe. He never even gave a shit about them, especially not after he started dating the prissy Nancy Wheeler.
“Hey,” Steve Harrington holds out his hand, “I’m Steve.”
“I know.” Robin tells him, just looking him up and down as Steve slowly drops his hand back to his side, unshaken.
He’s wearing a loose shirt and shorts, because though the AC is already blasting inside the store, it's hot enough to melt outside. His new sailor suit, much like the one Robin already has on, is under one arm.
“Aren’t you gonna get changed?” Robin asks, nodding towards it.
Steve startles, as if he’s forgotten he was holding it.
“Right. Gotta jump on board this ship and set sail on a ocean of flavours, right?” Steve jokes, shooting his winning smile at her.
Robin doesn’t laugh, and Steve’s smile dims slightly. He’s probably just not used to not being worshipped by everyone around him. And as long as he works at Scoops Ahoy, he'll just have to get used to that. Because even as she slowly learns Steve can be funny, if only in a pathetic, kicked dog kind of way, she'll never laugh at his jokes. She's never been won over by Steve Harrington like all the other girls their age in Hawkins, and she's never going to be won over.
She decides before the end of the day that she’s not going to quit. Not because she likes Steve, or enjoys his presence, because she doesn't. His mere existence is torture for Robin. But because quitting would mean Steve won, and she’s not gonna let him win. So, looks like she’ll have to stick around. And if that means she gets to make fun of Steve Harrington, and make him a little miserable while she gets paid for it, that's all the better for her.
AFTER
She’s surrounded by soldiers. Buzzing around her, checking her wounds, her head, her eyes. Asking her questions she can’t answer.
It’s not all too different to how she’s spent the last two days. Except for the nothingness beside her. A great, big vacuum of space where Steve is supposed to fit. The entire world feels off-centre, like someone’s ripped her arm off and expects her to just keep walking around. Can’t they tell? Can’t everyone see that she’s only half a person now?
It’s like she’s dead. Her body is still moving around, but there’s nothing left inside. She can’t even bring herself to cry anymore.
There’s no relief in being brought to the surface. There is no end to her torment. This is it. For the rest of her life. Steve’ll be dead, and she’ll just be trapped in that bunker. She’s never gonna really be free.
This is by far the worst torture she’d experienced today. Concocted by only the truly sick-minded.
Her lungs start stinging as the elevator opens and she, Mrs. Byers, and the bald guy are ushered out, and Robin falters as she looks up at what remains of Starcourt Mall. The building is half collapsed, roaring with fire. She realises that the sting in her lungs is the smoke and ash of the mall. She almost wishes the entire thing had collapsed in on her, just so she wouldn’t have to face the coming dawn.
“Come on, honey.” Mrs. Byers gently rubs her arms, urging her towards the parking lot. Her voice is cracking, and her eyes are still puffy, and leaking tears. Robin wonders if this is how Mrs. Byers is feeling too. If killing Hopper and Steve killed her as much as it killed Robin.
The mall is surrounded by ambulances, firetrucks, and government officials, apparently. Before they’d gotten to the gate below the mall, Hopper and Mrs. Byers had tried to explain to Steve and Robin what had been going on topside. Steve seemed to follow alright, but it all flew over Robin’s head. Even now, she can’t really bring herself to care about what happened in the mall.
There are a few faces Robin recognises. They send a pang so sharp into her heart, Robin knows they have something to do with Steve, and she just can’t face them. She doesn’t want to remember who they were to Steve, because remembering means thinking about what happened to him, and thinking about how they’re going to react. She’s content to live in denial about what Steve’s death will do to everyone else. She can’t even fathom what it’s doing to her yet.
Then she spots Dustin.
She can’t bring herself to take a step closer, she feels like she’s being split in half looking at him. She just meets his eyes, and he must understand her. He must realise what that anguish means, because he just starts wailing. Some of the kids run to him, but Robin just watches.
How could she run to him? How could she take him in her arms when this is her fault? When she caused him this pain, this misery.
Robin watches Dustin collapse to the ground, and wishes she was the one that died under Starcourt Mall. That would’ve been easier, she thinks.