Chapter Text
July 4th into early AM July 5th, 1985
“Is everyone alright? Robin, are you okay?” Steve prodded at Robin’s shoulder and she let out a hiss of pain and grabbed for the welt he’d poked. “Shit, okay, I’ll go get a paramedic, here,” He yanked a blanket from a police officer’s hands and draped it around her shoulders and then he was gone before Robin could even speak.
Robin exhaled a small sigh. She wrapped the blanket properly around herself in the rain, grimacing at various aches and pains that seared through her muscles. Looking around, Robin didn’t bother for the moment to worry about Steve overreacting to her minor injuries. Steve had worse injuries than Robin and she’d meant it earlier when she’d told him to ask her if she was okay tomorrow. Her eyes took in the massive movement of people around them. Military, Police, Firefighters, EMTs, all raced back and forth in various directions. No one, not a single person so far outside of their group of mismatched, hodgepodge island of misfit toys, had mentioned the gigantic, squelchy pile of goo monster inside the mall. The military weren’t likely to discuss it with the civilians around, granted, and she supposed the firefighters were preoccupied as well.
Robin’s eyes scanned and took account of the others, just compiling a head count. Lucas sat in the back of an ambulance with Mike, a medic patching up a gash on his elbow. Nancy and Jonathan sat inside an ambulance, behind Will. She could hear Jonathan reassuring Will that everything was okay, that their mother, Joyce, would return soon. Dustin and Erica were safe, she knew, up on the hill with cerebro still. Her eyes landed on Max, sitting alone on the end of a stretcher in the rain, holding an ice pack to the left side of her face. Robin was an only child - a ‘whoops’ baby at that, born to nomadic hippies that were now tethered to Hawkins, Indiana of all places.
Robin hadn’t known all that much about the brood of children that Steve frequently helped sneak into the movie theater through the mall’s back hallways, at least not until tonight. She still didn’t know enough about them, except that one of them had super powers, and Max…well Max’s brother had died. Robin didn’t know what it was like to have a sibling. She and Steve had that in common. Tonight she’d witnessed countless cases of the various sets of siblings saving each other at the risk of their own lives. Some of them had saved her life. She wasn’t entirely sure but she’d thought she’d saved some of them as well. Not that Robin was keeping tally. No one was keeping tally. It was just an observation. Just like it was an observation that Max was not doing well by herself. Before she could talk herself out of it, Robin let her feet take her to Max. She gathered the blanket around her on her way.
“Hey,” Robin spoke as she approached in order to try to avoid startling Max. The younger girl blinked and though her eyes shifted, briefly, to Robin’s face, they were blank. Robin could see she was still in a state of shock. She reached out and wrapped the right half of her heavy wool blanket around Max’s shoulders, without asking permission, as she hopped up onto the stretcher next to her. A thousand literary quotes floated about through the gray matter of her mind in the moment.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.
Or,
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.
Or,
Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.
Or,
It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.
Or, even,
You know a guy a longtime, and I mean really know him, you don't get used to the idea that he’s dead just overnight.
The patchwork of quotations, though eternally populating through Robin’s mind, would likely be of no use to the girl sitting at her side and dealing with her grief. Robin didn’t understand it fully. As far as she had experienced in the, thankfully, very brief encounters she’d had with Billy Hargrove at school, the guy had been a grade-A douche canoe. The fact remained that he was Max’s brother, or step-brother as it was, and he had sacrificed himself in the end to save them. That had to stand for something and Max clearly was left to deal with the fallout.
“I want to say something to comfort you,” Robin began to speak. “But I don’t think spouting off an AP Lit quote at you will be beneficial to either of us at the moment. So I’m going to sit here with you, at least until they finish up with Lucas since it’d be better to be with someone who knows you better than I do. I just wanted to check on you and tell you that I’m sorry about what happened to Billy.” Robin managed to finally bite the inside of her cheek to stop talking. She reached up and gently rested her hand on Max’s back between her shoulder blades.
Initially, Max didn’t even react or look at Robin. Her muscles tensed at the feeling of another’s touch on her back and Robin prepared to pull her hand back but then suddenly, Max leaned into her shoulder and side. She rested her forehead into Robin’s collarbone and crook of her neck. Robin felt the cool ice pack against her collarbone but only froze as she was unsure what to do next and then Max’s shoulders were shaking as the tears came again. Robin shifted, moved her arm all the way around Max to support her better, pulled her closer. She ran her hand along Max’s arm and quietly tried to reassure her, resolved to maintain this supportive position until someone came to relieve her of her duties and Max chose to cling to them instead.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nancy arched her eyebrows. She stood in the doorway of Steve’s house, her arms crossed loosely over herself. Jonathan sat in the driver’s seat of his car waiting for her. They’d helped Steve get into his house and settled him in his bed. Robin had volunteered to babysit him and make sure he didn’t stop breathing in the night. There had been some talk about concussions and brain bleeds and waking him up every so often. Robin wasn’t sure how accurate any of this was but the idea that Steve could die in his sleep as a result of all the wounds received from their interrogation at the hands of the Russian KGB agents was terrifying. Robin wouldn’t be able to sleep until she was sure he would be alright. She did not want to admit this out loud, and especially not to Nancy Wheeler. Nancy, who was standing in the doorway, arms hugged around herself, brow creased and lips pursed in deep concern of her own. “Jonathan and I could easily take shifts, instead. Or we could all,” She lifted a hand and motioned to the three of them, letting the gesture finish her thought.
“No. I mean, yeah, no, I,” Robin roughed a hand through her tangled hair. She took a deep breath. “I mean I’m good for it. You should…go and do what you guys need to do with the family and sibling things and…whatever else.” She said, “I have nowhere else to be and my parents aren’t expecting me until at least tomorrow. I’m good for it. I’ll make sure he’s alright.” She promised.
Nancy seemed to hesitate for a moment but in the end, after she glanced into the house and then studied Robin for another minute, she nodded. Unfolding her arms, she reached out and touched Robin’s arm. Robin blinked and glanced at Nancy’s hand on her arm as Nancy gave her a squeeze. “I wrote Jonathan’s number on the notepad on the nightstand, if you need us, use it, yeah?” she asked.
Robin hesitated this time but squeaked out a nod and an, “Got it. Yeah, totally. For sure.” Nancy gave Robin one last glance as she headed down the walkway toward the passenger side of the car. Robin watched them drive away before she stepped in the house, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her. Steve’s parents were off on some extravagant vacation. Robin knew it would be a long night but she didn’t want to chance leaving him alone or to wake up with his ex and his ex’s current boyfriend. She headed to Steve’s room and found he was lying on his stomach, limbs flung out in a sprawl like a starfish on the queen sized bed. She tugged his shoes off, ignoring his disgruntled groans of pain but she drew the line at changing him out of his Scoops Ahoy uniform.
She did find another blanket to drape over him since she couldn’t make him roll over or shuffle to get the other out from under him. Once he was settled, Robin went on a search. She found a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt that was way too big for her and ducked into the bathroom to change out of her own uniform and into the clean, more comfortable clothes. She dropped her dirty uniform on top of her discarded shoes then she dragged the cushioned chair from the corner over to the bed and perched in it. She slouched down until she could rest her head against the arm rest, stretching her legs out along the bed, and let her eyes take in the room and all the information it contained about her friend. Her eyes strayed to Steve every few minutes, watching until she saw his chest rise and fall to indicate he was still breathing. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and settled in for the very long night.
7am July 5th, 1985
“Hey…Dingus,” Robin muttered, raspy exhaustion but also affection in her tone. It was some asinine early morning AM time. She squinted at the clock. Seven? It might be seven in the morning. Robin’s foot nudged Steve’s leg. “Wake up. I’m s’posed to make sure you’re still alive again,” She murmured through a yawn.
Steve didn’t move. He didn’t groan in pain either. Robin sat bolt upright in the chair. “Steve?” awake now, her voice was much louder. Her eyes bore into his back as she watched for his chest to rise and fall. She saw and she heard the snuffly sound of him inhaling and the soft snore as he exhaled, so he was at least breathing. His silence even to groan about being shaken awake again sent Robin spiraling in panic that he’d possibly gone into a coma. “Steve - hey, asshole, wake up!” She knelt on the bed and reached for the back of his shoulder, giving it a jostling shake.
The sound of a monster awakening from hibernation - a groan of pain mixed with a sharp, startled gasp and fearful scream - was the only warning Robin received that Steve was so deeply asleep, in whatever vivid dream he was having, that he didn’t know it was Robin shaking him awake and he was about to commit nightmare karate. In nearly the same instant the sound echoed around the room, Steve’s body whirled around in a furious flurry of flailing limbs. Robin dodged the first backhand from his left arm but his right fist clocked her directly in the sharpest corner of her jaw just as his knee bashed into her abdomen. The wind went right out of Robin with a gasp and she doubled over just before falling to the floor on her ass and smacking her shoulders and part of her head into the drywall behind her.
“SCOOPS AHOY!! I WORK AT SCOOPS AHOY!” Steve screamed from his spot, suddenly on his knees on the bed, fists clenched and arms up ready to reel back and swing at anyone - or thing - that came near him.
Robin groaned, hand on the back of her head as she forced her tired, aching muscles to sit up. Steve’s left eye was still swollen shut. His head swiveled around when he heard Robin's murmured, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," grumble.
"What?!" He shouted just as thundering footfalls raced down the hallway. Before Robin could utter Steve’s name, as she'd realized he still wasn't fully awake, the bedroom door flew open with a loud bang. As it slammed into the wall, Nancy barged through the threshold in the door’s wake. In the span of seconds as she made her surprise entrance, her feet shifted so that one was in front of the other, blocking the door from swinging back to hit her and centering her weight to prepare for battle. Her arms swung up, one straight out holding a revolver, the other bent at the elbow as her hand braced the one aiming the gun. Her muscles were squeezed tensely taut, her face set, the hammer of the revolver cocked back, her grip tight on the handle and her finger rested inside the trigger guard ready to squeeze off all six loaded rounds. Steve jolted in surprise and spun towards the door.
“Nance?!” Steven blurted at the same moment Robin screamed, “Wheeler, don’t shoot!”
Nancy blinked but her stance didn’t relax, though her index finger instantly moved outside the trigger guard, resting against the outer edge to ensure she didn’t accidentally squeeze the trigger. She shifted, reflexively, the gun moving from Steve to Robin and back as her eyes took in the entirety of the room.
“What the hell are you two - did you hit her?” Nancy aimed the gun at the floor as she carefully released the cocked hammer of the revolver. She advanced into the room and started around the bed as she tucked the gun into the back waistband of her jeans. She crouched slightly as she eyed Robin’s jaw and the way she was holding her head and chin. “What’s wrong with you?!” She turned and punched Steve in the shoulder.
“Ow, fuck!” Steve grabbed his tender shoulder and fell back to sit on the bed, confused and still trying to put everything together.
“He didn’t!” Robin blurted quickly. She looked at Steve, who had fixed her with a horrified expression. "You didn't!" She scrambled to get to her feet and groaned as she put a hand to her temple at the sudden dizzy spell it caused. Nancy reached out reflexively to steady her.
“I was attacked!” Steve insisted.
“You’re in your own bed!” Nancy snapped.
“Everybody chill!” Robin shouted just before words began to spill out of her. “I was trying to wake him up to make sure he wasn’t dead but he wouldn’t move. I thought he was in a coma so I shook him too hard and he must’ve been having a nightmare about the KGB agents that tortured him and he just flipped and started swinging! I’m okay, he’s alive and concussed and…and you’re here with a gun at seven in the morning! What are you doing here with a gun at seven in the morning?”
“How did you even get in?” Steve’s fists were unfurled and he dragged a tired hand over the right side of his face since it wasn’t swollen and purple like the left.
Nancy’s cheeks turned a flaming tinge of crimson. “I brought breakfast!” She backed away from Robin and from Steve’s bed to put some distance. She crossed her arms. “I wanted to check on you,” she looked at Steve. “I used the hidden key from the fake rock by the stairs - I thought someone was attacking you!” she explained herself.
Steve eyed her, his expression not readable due to the mottled spread of injuries on his face.
“You brought food?” Robin cut in, her focus on anything that would break up the weird tension in the room in the wake of what just happened.
Nancy’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Yeah. It’s…downstairs.”
Robin nodded. “Let’s go.” She made the decision for all of them and walked around the bed, past Nancy and out of the room with the clear expectation that they would both follow her.
July 7th, 1985, midnight
Robin sat on the front porch of the Buckley house. She perched lengthwise on the ancient, rusty metal porch glider, her back against the armrest closest to the wall of the house. Her right foot hung down, her toe touching the worn wood of the porch while the other rested against the glider seat, leg bent at the knee. Her left elbow hooked around her left knee, holding one half of the thick book in her hands while the right rested along the top of her right thigh, hand holding the other corner of the book. The light by the front door was dim but it was enough to see the words on the pages in front of her. Though she could hear the various signs of the neighborhood and the summer night time sounds of the chirping crickets, the buzz of the odd cicada mixing with the occasional surge of electricity through the wiring to the light nearby, Robin forced herself to focus on the words rather than looking up at the croak of a bullfrog mixing with the light thump, thump thump of moths and flies buzzing against the light by the door. She made herself focus on the story and description in her book rather than looking out into the night and wondering if the sway of the trees was the wind or a giant spider monster lurking and waiting for a moment to strike.
“It’s the wind, Robin,” She reminded herself. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, counting out to three and took as many seconds to exhale it. This time, the sound that echoed through her brain and caused her eyes to pop open and squint into the gaps of darkness between the street lights was that of rolling wheels. She looked up and down the street, book hanging slack in her hand as she tried to find the sound’s source. Those sounded like skateboard wheels. And then, she saw it; the near silhouette of a girl, pushing the board under a foot and gliding along, looking back and forth at the somewhat randomly spaced rancher style houses on the street. Even from the distance of her porch, Robin could see the creases in the red-head’s brow as she cast furtive glances, stopped the board, turned her board and went a bit in the other direction before thinking better of it and turning around again.
Robin wasn’t sure if she was imagining this moment. At this point, anything was possible really. “Max?” Robin called out the girl’s name, not too loud but enough for her voice to carry.
Max ground the skateboard to a halt, dropping one foot down on solid ground and angling her foot so the front of the board perched upward, suspended in air. Her head swiveled, looking for the source of the voice. Just before she could fully make good on the consideration to bolt, Robin put down her book, sticking her index finger between the pages to hold her space and stood from her seat. The sound of the metal glider groaning against its rusty hinges made Max’s shoulder hunch in momentary panic. Robin walked to the top of the porch stairs and Max finally spotted her.
“Max? Is that you?” Robin knew it was Max but for both their sakes, she asked the question to be sure as she climbed down the three porch stairs and started along the overgrown walkway toward the street.
“Um…hi,” Max stammered out and gave a half wave before she reached out to hoist her skateboard up by the metal hinge of its front wheels.
“Are you okay?” Robin asked, the concern creeping in as she stopped just a couple of feet in front of the younger girl. “Did something happen?”
Max ducked her head and a wave of red hair swung down into her face. “Yeah,” She said quickly and nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’m good. Everything’s…fine.” She shrugged.
“Are you looking for someone?” Robin’s eyes squinted, unsure what to make of Max’s appearance if there were no apocalyptic creatures lingering about. “Why are you out so late?” She asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
“Who says I can’t be out late?” Max snapped defensively.
Robin’s brow furrowed. “No one,” She answered with a slight shrug but said nothing else and instead waited for an answer to her other question.
“Dustin said, um, that you…lived around here,” Max finally blurted out.
“Henderson knows where I live?” Robin arched her eyebrows, not sure what to make of this information. Max nodded. “Huh,” Robin exhaled. “How does he know where I live? He’s such a strange, strange boy - he’s filled with so much information I would be unsure how he doesn’t just burst at the seams but then he opens his mouth and spews it out with such maniacal confidence that I understand this must be how he keeps from spontaneous combustion from within.”
Robin looked up and found that Max’s own eyebrows were arched up her forehead and her mouth hung slightly agape. Robin started to apologize, realizing she had rambled a bit but Max interrupted her. “No, no I was waiting for you to go on, you nailed it right on the head.” she insisted.
Robin hesitated, stepped closer and relaxed a bit when Max didn’t step away. “Max, why were you looking for me?” She asked.
Max ducked her head again. The toe of her sneaker kicked at a loose pebble in the road causing it to tumble with a series of light tink, tonk, tink, tink sounds until it hit the grass and went silent. She swayed a bit, her skateboard in hand. “You said…” she cleared her throat.
“I said…?” Robin asked, echoing the comment to encourage MAx to continue.
“You said if I needed, um…” She tucked hair behind her ear and exhaled a frustrated sigh. “Forget it,” She dropped her skateboard and started to put a foot on it but Robin put her left hand up, palm out and facing Max but didn’t grab her.
“No, wait!” Robin said quickly but didn’t snap. “I said if you needed anything to let me know, you’re right. I definitely said that. And look, you’re here. You found me, which means you needed something, right?” She asked. Max stood still, frozen, her eyes darting in all different directions - up the street, down the street, at Robin, at Robin’s house past her shoulder. “I promise, whatever it is, I’ll do what I can.” She said to Max. She could tell there was something dire going on and with Max coming to her instead of her circle of friends, it likely wasn’t demon creatures from the upside down or Russian KGB Agent related…at least Robin hoped.
“My…my mom and my, my stepdad, um, they’re…” Max struggled to push the words out. She picked her skateboard up and shifted from foot to foot. Robin wasn’t certain if the girl was going to bolt or not.
“Hey, listen,” Robin spoke. “It’s really late - hey no, wait, stop, that doesn’t mean I want you to leave,” this time Robin reached out with her left hand, slowly, and caught Max’s wrist to keep her from bolting. “It’s really late, you shouldn't be out alone even if it’s summer. C’mon, why don’t you hang here for the night?” she nodded toward the house but didn’t move. She didn’t know what, exactly, was going on at the Hargrove house in the wake of Billy’s death but she could see Max couldn’t go back there tonight. Max glanced at the house and then let her eyes meet Robin’s, as if asking about her own parents. “Dad’s asleep already. Mom might be awake still but she’s probably chanting with her crystals or meditating. She’s been really freaked out about the ‘mall fire,’ and how they ‘could have lost’ me. She won’t mind you staying over - my parents are domesticated hippies, they’re…alright, mostly.”
Max blinked. “Your parents are…hippies?”
“Oh yeah,” Robin nodded. “They were nomadic vagabonds once upon a time until I threw a big ol’ spanner in the works. The story goes I was conceived in the back of a van in Oregon. Still have no idea how they got from Oregon to Hawkins, though. I guess the van." She shrugged. “She might try to tell you what color your aura is if she talks to us, but other than that she won’t dig too deeply. And that’s if she’s still awake. So, c’mon. Let’s go inside, at least?”
Max finally nodded and Robin let her go since it was clear she was coming along rather than bolting. She carried her skateboard sideways by its middle now and Robin led the way back to the porch and the front door. “What color is your aura?” Max asked, the ghost of a chuckle in her voice.
“Oh, I’m currently a transient energy vampire,” Robin bounced her eyebrows and smirked slightly.
Max stopped. “But…not a real vampire?” Look, she’d seen a lot of shit in this town, okay. She had to be sure.
Robin let out a chuckle. “No, not a real vampire,” she said as she opened the screen door and stepped back to allow Max inside. She walked in behind Max, quietly shut the screen door and then shut and locked the front door behind it. “Although I suppose that’s exactly the type of thing that a real vampire would say to lure you into their lair for a midnight snack,” She tilted her head slightly as she considered it. “And I suppose you haven’t seen me in the day time so you don’t know if I’ve slept the day away and-,”
“I’ve seen you during the day time,” Max interrupted. Robin arched her right eyebrow and motioned for Max to follow her into the hallway and to Robin’s room, without encountering either of the Buckley elders. Once they were in Robin’s room, Robin shut the door behind them.
“Make yourself at home. You’ve seen me during the day time?” Robin tried to keep distracting Max. She opened her book and dog-eared the page she’d been on then tossed the book to the foot of the bed.
“Yeah, at least once,” Max nodded. Carefully, she set her skateboard down and leaned it, topside, so the wheels face out, at an angle against the side of Robin’s bureau. She glanced around Robin’s room as she ambled for the bed and sat down stiffly on the edge of it, unsure of herself. “You were in your band uniform, and, uh,” she cleared her throat, squinted a moment and ducked her eyes. “Billy and I were fighting and you, um, you…threatened to blow your horn up his ass if he tried to swing at me again,”
“Oh,” Robin’s eyes rounded as the full scope of the memory came back to her.
November 2nd, 1984
Robin had just finished shoving her bike into the rack and adjusting her backpack over her shoulders. Her marching band hat was on her head, most of the rest of her uniform was over top of her regular clothes. The pep rally was scheduled for the afternoon but it was easier to ride with her uniform on than not. She’d dropped her mellophone case and it had popped open but, thankfully the instrument wasn’t harmed. She’d just picked it up to inspect it when she heard the doors of the blue camaro slam. She hated that fucking car and the douche canoe that drove it and he’d only been at the school for a few days. It was hard to believe that anyone could be more of an ass than Steve Harrington, but this new piece of shit was proving to be ten times as insufferable as ‘The Hair.’
Robin wouldn’t have given it any more thought if she hadn’t heard a girl’s voice arguing with Billy Hargrove. Her attention fully won over, she looked up in time to see a much smaller red-headed girl, shouting at and trying to get away from the passenger side of Billy’s car. He had her by the forearm and was leaning down in her face, nearly spitting as he scolded her. Robin was not the kind of person to insert herself into other people’s business. At least, she hadn’t been that type of person. She’d learned a lesson or two over the last year, but she didn’t normally just throw herself into other people’s fights. But this grown-ass teenager was going after a child.
She didn’t let herself give it another thought. Dropping her backpack from her shoulders and her marching band hat next to it, Robin scrambled to her feet, mellophone still in hand and began to jog. Her limbs went at somewhat awkward angles, gangly and having grown a little too fast for her body to get used to them. She made it just in time as Billy’s hand reeled back and the red head flinched and squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. Billy’s arm came down but stopped halfway, blocked by the metal of Robin’s mellophone. She grimaced, hoping it hadn’t been damaged too much by the brute’s forearm smashing into it.
Max blinked, her eyes opening wide. She stared between Billy and this stranger. Billy’s jaw set. His open hand curled into a fist. “Let her go.” Robin was surprised by how steady her voice sounded when she said the words. She squared her shoulders and stood up straighter, pushing Billy’s arm higher in the air and side stepping to wedge part of her body between the girl and Billy.
“This is a family matter between me and my sister, so you can-,”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think this is or who you are in relation to the child you’re about to hit so I’m going to go ahead and tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to put your arm down, you’re going to turn around and walk the fuck away before I shove this mellophone up your ass and blow your intestines out your nostril with a rousing rendition of The Star-Spangled -- what are you still doing standing there gawking? Get the fuck out of here before I make good on my promise in front of all the people currently watching you, Meathead.” Robin rambled, yes but she’d never rambled so violently as that moment. For once, she meant every word of it. Something had just snapped in her when she’d seen what was happening. She couldn’t stand for it. Honestly, if she was going to die at the hands of this piece of shit when he pulverized her instead, at least the kid could get away and there were enough witnesses that town police would definitely take care of Billy Hargrove, so there was that at least.
Billy sent a glance around and, upon noticing the wandering eyes, he lowered his arm as he stared Robin down. He leaned slightly around her. “I’ll see you after school, Maxine.” he growled and Robin shifted her weight to block the girl more. Billy sneered at Robin. He looked her up and down and Robin barely managed to keep the outward projection of wild black bear ferocity as she felt her insides squirm under the look he gave her. He leaned closer to her and Robin forced herself not to recoil. “You won’t always be in public, Sweetheart,” His eye twitched slightly before he spun on his heel and headed for the high school as the bells for both schools began to ring.
Robin waited until he was at least twenty yards away before she swallowed the lump of disgust jammed in her throat. “Well, he’s certainly a bright ray of sunshine,” she exhaled. “Are you all-,” Robin turned to find the girl had made her escape, her mop of red hair swaying behind her as she ran toward the middle school. “Right,” Robin finished the sentence. She sighed and made her way back to her ditched belongings, inspecting her mellophone as she went and trying not to think about Billy’s threat. She gathered her things and rushed into the school, knowing she was going to need a late pass for homeroom now. “Shit,” she murmured to herself as she tried to make her way through the usual throng of students in the halls.
July 7th, 1985, after midnight
“I remember,” Robin snapped from her memories. She headed for the bed, picked up her book to get it out of the way and sat down next to Max on the edge of the bed. “You lived to fight another day,” She offered a small smile.
“I thought he was going to murder you in front of everyone,” Max said. She turned her eyes to her lap. “I’m sorry I ran away…” She grimaced.
Robin’s head tilted slightly. “You do not have anything to apologize for, Max. I saw what was happening and I made a conscious choice to intervene. And we both survived, so it was a good choice. I’d make it again in a heartbeat.”
“You didn’t even know me,” Max looked at her.
“I still don’t, but that can change,” Robin shrugged. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Do you want some water? Was that your stomach growling? I can get you some food. Why don’t I find you some pajamas and then I’ll grab us some food.” She touched Max’s shoulder and then set her book down on the bed again as she stood up and headed for the bureau.
“You don’t have to do that,” Max blurted. She didn’t want to make a burden of herself.
“You’re right, I don’t but I’m going to.” Robin rummaged in her top draw and found a mismatching pair of striped cotton pajama shorts and an oversized navy and yellow Notre Dame Fightin’ Irish t-shirt. She handed both to Max. “So you can change into this and I’ll go rummage for snacks and drinks. Deal?” she asked.
Max looked at the items in her hands, her face quizzical but she nodded. Robin dashed out of the room and shut the door behind her before Max could second guess herself. She briefly encountered her mother in the hallway and when asked about the voices she’d heard, Robin simply said her friend Max was staying over. Half-asleep, Melissa Buckley murmured a quiet mantra of telling Robin ‘sweet dreams,’ and ‘sleep tight,’ as she walked away. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Robin half whispered the rest of the little night time saying as she made it the rest of the way to the kitchen.
They didn’t have much but Robin managed to cobble together some sandwiches with peanut butter, banana slices and honey. She cut the two sandwiches into four neat triangles each and added a couple of oreos to each plate. She piled the plates and two small glasses of milk onto a tray and carried it back to her room, where she balanced the tray and knocked lightly on the door. “It’s just me, can I come back in?” She asked, wanting to make sure it was okay to enter since Max had been changing.
“Yeah, I’m good.” Max called back.
Robin let herself back in and used her hip to lightly close the door behind her. She turned around to find Max sitting on the bed, having changed into the pajamas, her legs criss crossed and her back against the wooden headboard. She had Robin’s book in her hands and her brow was furrowed as she leafed through the pages. Robin walked over and set the tray down on the bed in front of Max then climbed onto the bed, crisscrossing her own legs, though careful not to knock anything over. “Have you ever read it?” She asked Max as she lifted one of the plates and held it out to Max, worried she might not take the food otherwise even though the smell of it made Max’s stomach let out a growl. Robin didn’t have the heart to ask when the last time was that MAx had eaten.
“Read it? What even is it, it’s in another language,” Max set the book down and ducked her eyes away as she took the plate to inspect the offering.
“It’s in French but there’s English translations side by side as well,” Robin lifted a piece of her sandwich and took a bite. “Notre-Dame de Paris,” Robin said the book’s title in French. “It’s a very famous book.”
Max arched an eyebrow and looked at Robin skeptically. “Notre Dame, like,” she pointed to the tshirt she was wearing.
Robin chuckled. “That belonged to my dad. Which is actually funny since he’s even less athletic than I am,” She smirked. “Anyway, not the same. It’s about the actual cathedral in Paris. Everybody gets wrapped up in the plot points about the Hunchback and Frollo and Esmeralda but Victor Hugo actually splices in so much description about the cathedral and the architecture of Paris and it’s because by the time he was writing about it in the 1800s, Notre-Dame De Paris was already a few hundred years old and falling into ruin. He was so upset about it he basically wrote a few hundred page love letter to the importance of it and then, he made it the main character of his story. The rest of it is about Quasimodo and Frollo and Esmeralda as salacious as their obsessions with her are and as tragically as it all ends, it really is just the subplot.” Robin stopped rambling so she could take a bite of her sandwich, chewing as she glanced at Max.
Max, by then, had eaten one of her cookies and half of her sandwich. Robin felt her cheeks heat up. Max simply listened, her brow furrowed as Robin rambled on the book. “But,” she lifted one of the glasses and took a sip of the milk. “It’s in another - it’s in French?”
Robin smiled. “Victor Hugo is French so the original is in French. It’s been translated a bunch of times. My book I found at the second hand shop, lucky too since it has both the English and French in it. It’s just different to read a book in its native language.” She shrugged.
“So you know how to read in French?” Max probed.
“Oui, mademoiselle," Robin nodded and made a flourishing motion with her hand that caused Max to chuckle. Robin grinned, relieved that Max was relaxing the more they dug into their food.
Tuesday July 9th, 1985, 8pm
Nancy let herself in through the front door. Though she could still smell the faintly remaining scent of beef stew that her mother had no doubt made for dinner, she knew the meal had been over for a little while. Leftovers were, no doubt, tucked away in the fridge since Mike and Nancy herself hadn’t been home for the meal. Both Nancy and Mike had been at the Byer household.
Nancy turned the locks on the door and then lifted each foot to tug her shoes off. She held them hook each on a finger and turned to start for the stairs, treading quietly upon spotting her dad and Holly asleep in the living room on the rocking chair. She smiled slightly to herself at the sight of them and then kept moving, up the short flight, turning on the landing and then up the second flight.
“Nancy?”
Nancy jumped slightly, her hand still on her bedroom door. Having the bedroom directly at the top of the stairs had its benefits but also its downfalls. Tonight the downfall was that she hadn’t made it into her room before her mother caught her. “You scared me,” she breathed, exhaling a sigh. She glanced up the hall as Karen approached from the direction of the bathroom, hands moving to finish tying a knot into her robe.
“I thought you and Mike weren’t coming back until eleven?” Karen asked, a little confused at the turn of events but not all that upset about it. She glanced toward Mike’s room. “Is Michael with you?”
“Oh, uh, no, actually,” Nancy turned the knob on her bedroom door and pushed the door open. “He’s staying over at the Byers’ tonight. I told Mrs. Byers I’d let you know once I got home.” She said.
“You didn't want to stay later with Jonathan?" Karen asked, her tone curious. "Everything okay?"
Nancy hesitated. "Yeah, of course," she nodded. I'm just…it's been a long…I'm just tired. I thought I'd just call it a night early, y'know?" She lightly shrugged her shoulders.
Karen looked into Nancy's eyes, searched her face. "Of course, Sweetheart," She gently reached out and touched Nancy's arm. "Are you hungry? I can heat up some leftovers for you while you get settled?" She offered.
Nancy felt her stomach roil and was glad the organ hadn't betrayed her with any sort of noise to accompany its flip-flopping about. "No - thanks, Mom. I think I'm just going to get changed and turn in tonight."
Karen hesitated this time. She wanted to inquire further, could see that something was bothering her daughter, but could also sense that searching and prodding for more information would only serve to further the growing wedge between them from these last few years. "Okay, Honey," she gave Nancy’s shoulders a squeeze and kissed her forehead. "You know where I am if you need anything," she smiled and turned to head for her and Ted's room. She only made it a few paces before Nancy’s voice stopped her.
"Mom?" The word was tentative on Nancy's tongue, unsure but purposeful.
"Yes, Honey?" Karen turned around with an assuring smile just in time for Nancy to wrap her arms around Karen's middle. Nancy turned her head and buried her face quickly in the crook of Karen's neck. Karen had just enough time to wind her arms tight around her daughter before Nancy spoke again.
"I love you," Nancy sounded much more confident in this declaration than when she'd initially called for Karen.
"I love you too, baby," Karen wasn't sure what spurred this outpouring of emotion, but she wasn't going to complain about it. She dropped a kiss into Nancy's Hair and rubbed a few circles into her back, willing to hold on forever if her daughter allowed it.
All too soon, after another squeeze, Nancy pulled back and Karen released her. "Goodnight," Nancy spoke softly again. She turned to go into her room.
"Sweet dreams," Karen offered a reassuring smile, watching as Nancy stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.
By the time she finally rolled over and snagged the pink, metal, round alarm clock from her nightstand, its incessant ticking had given her a migraine. The hammer swung into one of the bells as she turned it over, struggling in the dark with the flap on the back to release the batteries, which she yanked out and tossed to the corner. 11:11 and six seconds, frozen forever until Nancy would find the batteries and restore them in the future. She dropped both the clock and the flap onto the bed and took a deep breath, rubbed her eyes, her forehead, her temples. She waited for sleep to claim her, but it seemed content to burden her with flickering flashes of her worst memories. There were so many to choose from, closing her eyes was almost like flicking through a Viewmaster wheel of horror movie stills on loop.
Nancy felt her stomach flip and growl. When had she last eaten? Could she just not remember or was it that it had been so long since food had actually sustained her that it just seemed to blend into the tableau now? She climbed from her bed, knowing she wouldn’t fall asleep any time soon. So what were her options? She could try to take a shower in an attempt to wash the macabre feelings away, relax her muscles and trick body into sleep. That might wake her parents, and would lead to questions. She could try to see if anything in the fridge felt appealing. Karen Wheeler was an excellent cook and there were usually leftovers and, if not, something to snack on down there. Nancy frowned. Food would upset her stomach and that would keep her awake longer. That left exercise to burn off the anxiety and wear the rest of her out. Was it her best bet? Probably not. Was it the lesser of evil options before her? Perhaps. It was too late to sneak out for a run. She could, however, make her way to the basement and there, at least, stand less of a chance of her family waking.
Less than five minutes after the decision was made, Nancy tiptoed down from the second floor to the basement. She popped her headphones on, pressed play on her walkman, not even sure what tape was in the player. She just needed the sound to drown out her thoughts. She hooked the device to the side of her waistband and began. One hundred jumping jacks, one hundred sit ups, one hundred push-ups, fifty squats and, after carefully decluttering her mother’s somewhat rusty exercise bike from one of the forgotten corners of mountains of junk, Nancy rode the thing for nearly an hour. By the time she climbed off the bike, her leg muscles felt like jelly. Knowing she couldn’t currently climb the stairs, Nancy lay on the floor of the basement, willing her sweat to dry and lamenting the fact that her muscles felt like jelly and she was worn out and breathless, it wasn’t for any decent reason. She closed her eyes, causing the music to ring louder in her ears and allowed herself to drift.
And when the night is cold and dark
You can see, you can see light
No one can take away your right
To fight and to never surrender
To never surrender
Oh, time is all we're asking for
To never surrender
Oh, oh, you can never surrender
Time is all you're asking for
Stand your ground, never surrender
Saturday, July 27th, 1985
“What are we even doing with our lives? It’s Saturday! And we’re grocery shopping...” Steve grumbled as he followed Robin through the grocery store carrying a basket that was rapidly filling with toxic food groups.
“We’re on a scientific mission, Steve!” Robin tossed two, no three, bags of strawberry twizzlers into the basket Steve carried as he trailed behind her. “How many times do we have to go over this?”
“It’s Saturday…” Steve whined again, the basket loose in his hand and his head tilted back as he sighed..
“We socialized Friday - and Thursday and Wednesday. Tonight we’re on a mission.” Robin continued on her quest, marching for more junk food. She yanked a jiffy pop tin from a hanging rack and sent it sailing into the basket.
Steve angled the basket and caught the tin without thinking about it. “A mission to die alone faster than the speed of light thanks to twizzlers and jiffy pop?” he muttered as he looked down into the basket. “And funyuns.” She scrunched his nose. “Aren’t you the one that lectures me on the shit I eat?”
“I’ve had a life altering change in perspective recently, let me live!” Robin sighed and turned her back to march on.
“What’s the mission?” He asked, his shoulder jolting slightly as Robin saddled his basket with not one but two 2-liter bottles of Dr. Pepper.
“Do you ever actually listen when I talk?” Robin dropped the second bottle of Dr. Pepper in the basket and arched her eyebrows at him. “I spent the entire day coming up with this plan-,”
“Instead of helping me look for work-,”
“We nearly died!” Robin blurted. She flinched when Steve made a face and put his free hand up to stop her from blurting anything else out. “In the fire! At Starcourt! Weeee, nearly died in the fire at Starcourt. A vacation is in order. And I need a broad socialization break, so-,”
“We couldn’t take this break on Sunday?” Steve cut in, glancing around them as she led them toward the frozen section.
“No. We’re. On. A. Mission.” Robin practically sang the words out and dug in toward the frozen pizza.
Steve sighed. “Okay, one, get out of the freezer,” He tugged on the back of her shirt before she could snag any of the frozen pizzas.
“Whaaaattt? Cheese, pepperoni, tomatoes - It’s got more food groups than the rest of our basket; Protein, fruit, carbs and, and cheese. What’s wrong with pizza?” Robin flailed her free hand out toward the door of the freezer but Steve had her by the other elbow and tugged her away.
“If we’re getting pizza, we’re calling Rafi’s. Whatever mission we’re on, we’re worthy of actual, legitimate pizza.” Steve scoffed.
“If you’re paying, I’m not arguing!” Robin cheered and stopped fighting against Steve’s tug on her arm. “We’re on a mission t-,”
“You keep saying that but you still haven’t said what the mission is,” Steve argued. “I’m convinced it’s to murder us with junk food and I’m sticking to that theory.”
“We’re on a mission to fuel an all night movie marathon.” Robin answered, keeping the full mission ramble to herself as she smiled at the cashier standing at the register. “Hi,” she started emptying the items from the basket onto the conveyer; 3 bags of strawberry twizzlers, a bag of funyuns, a bag of doritos and a jar of salsa, two 2-liter Dr. Peppers, jiffy pop, bag of skittles, bag of reese’s pieces and a bag of cheddar goldfish crackers. The cashier arched her eyebrows and Robin just grinned at that woman. She forked over some wrinkled bills from a couple of different pockets and waited for the change as Steve grabbed the bags from the end of the counter.
“What are you going to make me watch?” Steve asked as he set the bags in the back seat. He stood up and spotted Robin looking back at the store. “Robin? Hellooo, Buckley?” He waved a hand from his side of the car.
“We should have grabbed spaghetti-o’s,” Robin looked across the roof of the car at Steve. “Let’s go back-,”
“Robin, no!” Steve rushed to the back of the car and caught Robin by the arm.
“But-,”
“We have enough food for a dozen people,” Steve dragged her back to the car. “Get in, so we can finish the mission.” He opened the car door for her.
“You don’t even remember what the mission is,” Robin sulked.
Steve sighed. “You’re lucky I lov-,”
“Don’t finish that sentence, I’m getting in,” Robin quickly dove into the passenger side of the car. Steve smirked and shut the door before heading over to the driver’s side to climb in. He started the engine and backed out of the spot as Robin began speaking.
“Earth to Nancyyyyyyyy, helloooo,” Mike waved his hand in front of Nancy’s face.
Nancy blinked, having zoned out as she’d watched Steve and Robin interacting by his car. She had agreed to drive the party to the store for snacks to go with their movie night in the basement mostly because she’d wanted to pick up some ice cream herself. “What?” Nancy blinked again.
“What’s with you?” Mike asked.
Max lightly slugged him in the arm. “Dude, leave her alone, she drove us here,” She shoved his shoulder and urged him on.
“Ow,” Mike groaned and rubbed his arm. He looked at Lucas. “Does she leave bruises all over you?” He asked. Max shrunk into herself, her face contorting before she pushed a nonchalant facade in place and glared at Mike at the insinuation.
Lucas’ eyes widened. “What?” He looked from Mike, to Max and then back. “No!” He didn’t sound quite convincing enough so Mike laughed. Max glowered and Lucas tried to find a way out of his conundrum. “I mean, I’m not an asshole, so bruising is not necessary.” He decided. Max’s glower turned his way. “I mean-,”
Max crossed her arms and shoved her way past them all and headed into the store. “Smooth move, ex-lax,” Dustin let out a round of snickers.
“Shut up, Atreyu.” Lucas shoved Dustin before he and El broke away from the group to go catch up to Max.
“C’mon, let’s go watch her dump him and forgive him fifteen times before we get back to the car,” Dustin swatted at Mike, who shoved Dustin back before they were off.
Nancy crossed her arms and watched them go, affection but concern in her eyes. She forced herself not to look over her shoulder in the direction Steve’s car had gone, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed tight together. Right up until she realized Will hadn’t followed the group in. For a split second, panic flooded Nancy. She uncrossed her arms and spun around to find Will leaning against the trunk of the station wagon, watching the others disappear inside.
“Feeling alright?” Nancy tried to ask him if he was okay without outright asking since it seemed to be the question Joyce and Jonathan asked him most often. She made a point of reaching up to put the back of her hand on his forehead as she added, “I know mom’s tuna noodle casserole isn’t her best, but when you’ve got a full battalion of wizards and paladins and…what does Max call herself for The Party - a Zoomer?” She squinted as she tried to remember if she’d overheard it correctly.
Will sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s not even an actual class,” He murmured. “And I feel fine, the casserole was fine.”
Nancy draped an arm across his shoulders and started to trudge her way inside with him. “Good, I’d hate to think she’d out class your favorite elf,” She gave Will a small wink and lopsided little grin before she squeezed his shoulder and let him go to join the others while she went in search of ice cream.
“So this mission-,”
“Should you choose to accept it,” Robin cut Steve off just before she bit the tail ends of a strawberry twizzler off and sunk it into her glass of Dr. Pepper to use as a straw.
“I’m already here, doesn’t that mean I’ve accepted?” Steve looked at her quizzically. “Wait, is something going to self-destruct?” He looked around at the junk food spread.
Robin exhaled a snort of laughter, barely managing not to choke on her drink. “Better not,” She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
“So what’s the mission?” Steve asked for the millionth time.
“We’re conducting research so as to be better prepared by whatever apocalyptic scenario comes crashing down around us in the future.” Robin declared with a big, proud grin. She looked at Steve, who just stared at her in confusion.
“And…we’re doing this with…junk food?” He tilted his head, the last two words inflecting upward in pitch with his confusion.
“No, Dingus!” Robin slapped his shoulder and grabbed her backpack. “I mean, yes, because we have the fuel,” She motioned to the junk, stopped her attempt to open her backpack and looked back up at Steve, who was staring at her expectantly. “Did you order the pizza?”
“Robin, the mission!” Steve blurted, exasperated, a hand motioning toward her.
“But the pizza, Steve!” Robin countered.
“Yes, I ordered the pizza! It’s on the way! What’s in the backpack?” Steve retorted.
“Okay, good, because we’ve got a marathon ahead of us,” Robin opened her backpack and started piling VHS tapes onto one small sliver of space left on the coffee table.
Steve blinked. He looked between the backpack and the table and then to Robin. “How many did you rent?!”
“Seven,” Robin answered.
“Seven movies?!” Steve arched his eyebrows.
“About time travel.”
“Time Travel?!”
“This is scientific research! We need to know our enemy” Robin insisted.
“Our enemy is time?”
“Time makes enemies of us all, Harrington. And I already had this one.” She tapped the top tape.
Steve picked it up and looked at the cover, La Jetée. “Is…is this a foreign film?”
“It’s French,” Robin answered with a shrug. “I assure you, it’s very poetic and thought provoking. It’s probably the best one of the bunch, honestly.”
“It’s in another language!” Steve countered.
“It’s French! I know French!”
“I don’t!”
“It’s not that complicated. It’s less than half an hour - and! And, and - it’s got subtitles!”
Steve groaned. They grabbed the rest of the pile and started flipping through movies ranging from the 60s on up. The Time Machine, Planet of The Apes, Somewhere in Time, The Terminator, The Final Countdown and The Philadelphia Experiment. “You’re telling me that a less than half an hour long French artsy bullshit film is the best movie out of this bunch when you have Planet of The Apes in here?” Steve held the case up.
“I got that one specifically for you,” Robin leaned back in her seat on the couch. Steve arched his eyebrows. “Yeah,” Robin nodded, “So you’ll know how to converse with your people when we’re thrown into the future and they’ve taken over and enslaved the rest of it,” She grinned.
Steve let out a suffering sigh but stood up, climbed over Robin’s legs and went to put the Planet of The Apes movie in first. He pressed play and turned to head back to his seat.
“A solid choice - you damn, dirty, ape!” Robin nodded and gave her best (which was to say, the worst) Charlton Heston impression.
“Just for that, I’m eating that whole pizza before you get a slice,” Steve dropped back onto the couch and lightly kicked Robin’s knee with his sock clad foot as Robin laughed and snacked on another twizzler that she wasn’t using as a straw.
“Whatever, goodbye nerds!” Max called over her shoulder, her skateboard tucked under her arm against her side as she crossed the threshold at the top of the Wheeler basement stairs and entered into the kitchen.
Nancy stood at the island, creating a sundae in a cereal bowl. She couldn’t help the small, crooked grin that tipped up the corner of her mouth as she heard the tinge of affection in Max’s voice even as she tossed the snarky little send off to the remaining young teens in the basement. Nancy couldn’t hold back the chuckle, even, as she heard a chorus of replies erupt from the basement hooligans. Max stopped on the other side of the island, watching Nancy’s creation - two heaping scoops of neapolitan ice cream that ensured a mixture of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate in each, banana slices, chocolate syrup, rainbow sprinkles and what looked to be carefully picked out marshmallows from a Lucky Charms cereal box. Max’s eyebrows arched.
“It’s for Holly,” Nancy answered Max’s unasked question. She squirted some whipped cream onto the bowl and then looked at Max. “Want one?” She asked.
Max’s cheeks flushed and she shook her head but she was smiling at the idea that Nancy was the one in the kitchen making her baby sister a sundae. Karen had gone on a girls bowling night out and Nancy’s dad was out cold in his arm chair so Nancy had spent the evening entertaining Holly after they’d returned from gathering snacks. “Oh, um, no. I’m good. Thanks.” Max shrugged.
Nancy glanced to the basement door and then arched her own eyebrow at Max. “Had enough of The Party for the night?”
“I’m surprised El’s surviving the passing of gas, let alone the shit movies they picked today.” Max joked with a scrunch of her nose.
Nancy laughed. “Let me give this to her royal highness Princess Holly and wake up dad, then I can drive you home,” She tucked the ice cream container into the freezer and the whipped cream can into the fridge.
“Oh! No!” Max shook her head. “You don’t have to do that, I can-,”
Nancy dropped a spoon into the ice cream and cut Max off. “You don’t think I’m going to stand by and let you make such a long trek on your own at this time of night, do you?” She asked with a small smile. “Grab a snack and give me two minutes. Don’t make me chase you with the station wagon.” She picked up the bowl and nudged Max with her elbow lightly as she went to the living room.
Max watched her go, poking the toe of her shoe into the linoleum. Within a few minutes, Nancy had Holly settled, Ted was half back to falling asleep in his chair again and the rest of the sundae makings were put away. Nancy called down to Mike that she was driving Max home and for them to keep an ear out for Holly and just like that Nancy and Max were on the road. Nancy’s eyes focused on the road, both hands on the steering wheel and alert but she spared a few glances Max’s way here and there. Max sat with her skateboard between her feet, holding onto it and spinning one of the wheels absently while she looked out the passenger side window. Nancy allowed Max to fiddle with the radio but she sat back, frustrated when she couldn’t quite find anything she wanted to listen to.
“You didn’t have to drive me.” Max said.
“You’re right,” Nancy nodded.
Max’s brow furrowed. “I…am?”
“You are.” Nancy said. “I didn’t have to drive you, but I wanted to, so I am.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh,” Max dropped her eyes to her lap, her thoughts drifting back to the night she first stopped to see Robin. How Robin had said nearly the same thing - You’re right, I don’t but I’m going to. Robin had said it and now Nancy had said something so very similar. “But…”
“Why?” Nancy supplied for Max. She glanced over just as Max nodded. “Because even though we hope we’re done with the gnarly, ooey-gooey upside down creatures, the real world still exists and we don’t willfully let Party Members put themselves in danger when we have access to such a sweet wood-paneled ride,” Nancy pursed her lips into a small smirk. Max let out a startled huff of laughter. “Right?”
“Yeah, I guess you have a point,” Max tucked her hair behind her ear and looked back at the window. She put her head back against the seat and sighed as a new song started on the radio and silence settled over them.
"Are you taking notes?" Steve reached over Robin's lap and tried to snag her open notebook as she finished jotting something down regarding their current viewing of The Final Countdown in which a Pacific aircraft carrier enters a time warp and is transported from 1980 to 1941 - just before the attack on Pearl Harbor. As a result, the captain has to decide whether to carry out a preemptive strike on the Japanese fleet and change the entire course of World War II. Steve had glanced over and spotted Robin scribbling in a notebook and couldn’t believe it.
Robin snatched the notebook away. “Hey, hey, hey, hey!” She used her barefoot to stop Steve at the hip. “Watch it with the grubby paws, these notes could save our lives one day!” She insisted.
“What are-,” Steve lunged and managed to snag the book, he pulled it towards him. “What are you even taking notes on?” He looked down at the book and blinked. “These aren’t even in English, what is…are these written in French??” He looked at her.
“Yes,” Robin nodded. Her eyebrows moved slightly as she watched his reactions.
“How will that save my life one day - and when are you ever going to be on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the pacific?” Steve asked.
Robin leaned forward and snatched her book back from him. “I’m conducting research so we can be prepared on all fronts from anything that future mind-flayers from the upside down could throw at us from secret Russian bases anywhere on the planet. Tonight’s research is specific to Time Travel.”
“Time travel - when are we ever-,”
“Ah-ah-ah!” Robin dropped the notebook next to her and flung both her hands over Steve’s mouth. “Don’t you dare put that out into the ethos!”
Steve murmured unintelligibly beneath Robin’s hands on his mouth. “What?” She asked without moving her hands away. Steve’s eyes bugged out and he motioned to her hands. “Oh, right, yeah.” She pulled her hands away. “What was that?”
“Aren’t you the one putting it out into the…ethos,” He motioned with his hand, “just in case studying fictional time travel movies?” He arched his eyebrows.
Robin narrowed her eyes just before lifting free another twizzler and taking a bite. “I’ll remember this insubordination the next time I save your ass, Harrington.” She smirked.
“Ughh, this stupid song,” Max complained as Never Surrender began to waft from the radio speakers. She rolled her eyes but didn’t reach to change it.
“What, you don’t like this one?” Nancy asked, an amused smile on her face as she spotted Max rolling her eyes. She was sure she knew Max’s issue with this song in particular.
“I might have enjoyed it, before Mike.” Max groaned.
Nancy chuckled. “Yeah, he’s been a bit obsessed with it - it’s even worse when you’re waiting for the shower and he’s too busy singing it off key and using up all the hot water,” She smirked.
Max tossed her head back and laughed while also cringing at the mental image. “Okay, you win.” She conceded and they both laughed.
“Setting aside Mike’s singing voice, it’s not a bad song,” Nancy reasoned. “The lyrics are decent - relatable in the wake of saving the world for, what, the third time?” She reached and turned the volume up a little so they could listen.
So if you're lost and on your own
You can never surrender
And if your path won't lead you home
You can never surrender
And when the night is cold and dark
You can see, you can see light
Cause no one can take away your right
To fight and to never surrender
By the time they’d reached the fading notes of the song, Nancy had pulled up and parked the car at the curb of the Hargrove house. She turned the radio down and looked over at Max, who had already reached for the door of the car. “Hey,” Nancy reached for Max’s forearm. Without letting go of the door handle, Max first glanced out the window at the house then looked back at Nancy. Nancy hesitated. “Listen, I just want you to know - and I don’t mean to say that I understand what’s going on in your head or how you’re feeling because I don’t, but I just want you to know that if you do need to talk, ever,” She watched as Max leaned away, stiffened and just blinked at her. “I just want you to know that there are people to talk to that have been through the kinds of things you have, even if they weren’t exactly the same. So I’m here. That’s all.” She let go of Max. “Okay?” She asked.
Max swallowed hard against a weird lump that had appeared in her throat. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Um…thanks.” She opened the door and climbed from the car quickly. “Thanks for the ride,” She added before she shut the door just as the screaming erupted inside her house. Max made it to the walkway and hesitated, unsure if she wanted to walk in. She couldn’t go back to the Wheeler house, though. She hesitated.
Nancy heard the screaming. She climbed from the driver seat, standing between the open door and the car itself. She hesitated as Max started toward the stairs. Nancy spotted the living room window, Mr. Hargrove saw Max and turned to, she assumed, Mrs. Hargrove and started screaming something about Susan letting her daughter do whatever she wanted. “Max,” Nancy called the girl’s name out, wanting to usher her back into the car to bring her back to movie night.
Max turned to glance at Nancy. “They’re just arguing,” She said quickly.
“You can come back with me,” Nancy said. “You don’t have to go back down to movie night. You can camp in my room. You don’t have to-,”
“It’s just an argument. They won’t even notice when I go in. By the time they realize it, I’ll be in my room.” Max shrugged. She hesitated. “Thanks, Nancy.” She turned and made her way in. Nancy watched as she took purposeful steps to be quiet. She listened as the Hargroves continued to fight, seemingly not noticing at all as Max entered the house and, presumably, scurried into her room.
Nancy stood there for another few minutes before she finally climbed back into the car and, against her better judgment, headed back to the Wheeler house.