#russian robin

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"I... dropped out", Nancy finally tells them.

"Knew it!" She grins, when she exclaims it. Laughs on the crappy camping chair. Drinks from the cup of vodka in her hand and forgets to flinch at the burn. Nancy watches her smile and doesn't know how so many years passed by like this. Nancy watches as Robin salutes a silly gesture with the red cup and says; "You're a NAVY Seal".

Nancy doesn't manage to bite her tongue on time. "CIA, actually".

They laugh but, for the very first time, Nancy catches the way the hearty chuckle doesn't reach Robin's eyes.

"Look out for that charm, Harrington", Robin laughs without missing a beat and, for the very first time, Nancy is able to decipher the way attention is manipulated off of Robin.

"Ah, she can try, but the students cannot beat the master", Steve is grinning at Nancy, but Nancy doesn't dare take her eyes off of the woman sitting on the other side of the cooler.

The woman who glances at her and goes slightly stiff when she finds Nancy still staring. The woman Nancy has bled with and laughed with and cried with; the girl Nancy needed to survive a war that might be over for them, but continues on in the shadows of two counties silently battling for dominance across the planet, in space, in the dimensions in-between.

Robin's eyes grow anxious, but something in her limbs goes steady. "Do we need to talk?"

Nancy tips her head to the side. "We do".

Robin's hand softly swings the cup round and round, for the drink to swirl in the cup. "You should know I have a gun too".

Steve and Jonathan burst into laughter, but Robin doesn't smile. Robin keeps looking at Nancy with a steady gaze and a worried tilt at the edge of her mouth.

Nancy nods, once. "Are you wearing a wire?"

Something changes in Robin's eyes. A warmth appears, a look Nancy had grown to learn and trust. Seems as a pressure internally settles on Robin's chest, leaving her breathless, lips parting just so and eyes darting around a bit more worried. She doesn't look like a cornered animal, not yet. Nancy's chest tightens with - with - why did she ever expect she'd feel any different to sit here with her and -

"I've never", Robin whispers, her face flushed and eyes anxious, body slightly panicked. Her voice has dropped an octave, sounding raw. "Are you?"

Raw, like realizing Nancy has all the power here for the very first time. The betrayal's anger is aged old now, but it sparks a light of satisfaction at the sight of Robin licking her lips and looking around the roof, squinting at the horizon, as if expecting the entire american forces of the secret services to roll into Hawkins again.

But Nancy isn't here on anyone's orders.

"I'm not", she whispers and watches Robin fail to hide the bone-deep relief, hide the heart-wretching gratitude, shine with the soulful trust she always pretended they shared but never actually -

Nancy is so fucking stupid. The anger burns and fizzles out into smoke and lights up again, and Nancy really wants to grab two handfuls of Robin's overalls and -

"After you, Agent Wheeler", Robin stands and the boys jolt in surprise as they look from one girl to the other as if they are a tennis match.

"No". Nancy doesn't stand yet. Jerks her head toward the metallic ladder to the side of the building. "After you, Agent…?"

The blonde woman clenches her jaw because the hesitation signifies what they both know now. Cat's out of the bag, Nancy thinks but something in her chest clenches and thrashes in pain because here she is; the girl Nancy needed by her side to survive this war; the girl Nancy needed to heal with from the trauma the upside-down left them with; here she fucking is and Robin Buckley isn't even her real name.

Before Nancy can grab a hold of the bubbling despair, the boys move to stand. "Wait, wait, wait. What's happening?"

"Give us a minute", Nancy says, watching Robin- Robin? - walk backwards to the ladder with both hands in the overalls' pockets. Nancy stands as soon as the russian spy starts to climb down.

Following her is both the easiest and most challenging thing Nancy has ever done.

Robin's leaning against the wall when Nancy steps down. She dares to plead with a soft; "Nance…"

Nancy slams both hands on her shoulders, grabbing those handfuls of her overalls to press her further against the wall. Nancy snarls in her face; "Don't you dare call me that".

Robin flinches just so, but doesn't fight her. Instead, two hands wrap a firm hold on the lapels of Nancy's suit jacket, keeping them close. Too close. Close enough for Nancy to spot specks of green in the deep blue of her eyes.

"I'm still me", Robin whispers but Nancy scoffs right at her face. She frowns, as if she has a right to look sad. "You know me, Nancy".

"Do I?" Each word makes Nancy angrier, makes an ache deepen in the middle of Nancy's chest.

"Yes", Robin pulls at Nancy's clothes, bringing them closer and at the back of Nancy's mind, a trainer is advising her to keep distance between herself and the mark, for freedom of movement and full control of reaching the weapon. The gun is hanging at her side and Robin's hand is now too close to reaching it. Would be faster too. Nancy is so -

"I'm still Robin", the russian woman says and Nancy is the one flinching now. "That's the name I've had since I was eleven. That's the name I've had when I loved Steve, when I met the kids, when I fe -" Robin is shaking now "-I'm still me".

Her hands curl tighter around Robin's overalls, angrily. "How can you say that? You betrayed us".

"When?" Robin's eyes are intense. "When, Nancy?" Her voice cracks.

Nancy shoves her against the wall again. "When I found out from a fucking suit!"

"I'm sorry, I should have -"

"Yes, you should have!" Nancy hates the way the words scratch their way out of her throat. "How do you think I felt? How do you -"

"Nancy…"

"No. God, no. I don't want to hear you. I don't want to look at you -" Nancy doesn't loosen her hold but "-why are you back here?"

Robin slowly lets go of the lapel of Nancy's jacket, only to reach up and let her fingertips brush back a rebellious strand of Nancy’s short hair. Nancy doesn't want to - "Same reason you are".

"No, I'm here for my brother's graduation and -"

"No, you are not". Robin drops both hands to softly push some distance between them. "I have a feeling we have the same information, right?" Robin looks around with a light frown. "Intel about this… weight over the town. Like gravity is a bit off. Reports that the people are also a bit…"

Nancy clenches her jaw, and steps back too. "Yeah".

Robin leans back against the wall. "KGB has a lead".

Nancy shakes her head and tries to burry the flatter in her chest. "I'm not working with you ever again".

"No?" Robin reaches into one of her pockets and Nancy takes a moment to remember she needs to tense up. But Robin just brings out a piece of paper that shows the map of the town marked by a wide spiral, which has a center right at Hawkins Lab.

Nancy snatches it off her. "What's your real name?"

Robin's eyebrows go up. Her hands burry further into her pockets. She ducks her head as if mournful and Nancy aches to step back close.

"I told you. Robin is the only name that matters".

[human-being-on-earth]

i am deprived of Russian spy robin rn

[eskawrites]

4 (for the drabble asks)

4. "I'm sorry I'm not who you thought I was."

Hopper's cabin makes a surprisingly secure prison. Nancy walks the perimeter just for something to do, just to put off going inside. The windows are boarded up. Trip wires cover every path. She can't even tell where the cameras are hidden, even though she knows vaguely where they are.

It's nothing compared to the inside, where Hopper and Murray and Jonathan and El have been taking watch in turns. Where El's old bedroom has been reinforced and stripped bare save for a chair and zip ties and a set of handcuffs.

"They're hurting her," Steve had said on that first day, when Robin's pained cry had echoed through the house as Hopper bound her to the chair and started demanding answers.

"She hurt us," was all Nancy had said.

It's been a week. The routine set in painfully fast. Joyce makes a plate for Robin with every meal, but only Hopper is in there when she eats with one unbound hand. Two bathroom breaks a day. Robin barely drinks the water they give her anyway.

They've all tried asking questions. Hopper with his gruff anger and paper thin patience. Joyce with her soft touch, her pleas, her gentle reminders about how much they've all cared for Robin over the past year. Steve with his quiet words, his silent language only he and Robin know.

Dustin with his relentless, tearful optimism. Erica and Max with their betrayal, their bitter hurt. Even El, probing into her mind until both she and Robin have nosebleeds. But the only thing they've learned is what they already knew. What Hopper told them the second he was back in Hawkins, returned from the dead.

"The girl," he'd said the second he pulled away from El's tearful hug. "Buckley. She's working for them."

And just like that, eight months of Nancy's life had come crumbling down around her. All those movie nights where Robin would save a spot on the couch for her, all those nightmares she woke up from only to find herself in Robin's arms. All the quiet moments, the soft, lingering looks, the gentle touches. The time Nancy had been brave enough to push up on her toes and press her lips to Robin's, and all the times she's been able to do it again and again since then. All of it meant nothing. A lie. An act. A means to an end. As fake and empty as the Robin Buckley she knew and loved.

"Wheeler," comes Hopper's heavy voice from behind her. Nancy closes her eyes, but she turns around. "We need you."

Everyone has tried asking questions. Everyone but her.

"What do you expect me to do?" It's harsh and defensive from the start. "I fell for her lies for a year. You think I can get the truth from her now?"

He sighs. His eyes are surprisingly gentle as he turns and gestures toward the front of the house.

"Just try."

She doesn't want to try. She doesn't want to go in there. She doesn't want to see Robin like this. She doesn't want to see Robin ever again.

But though Hopper's gaze is understanding, it's still stern. Nancy sets her jaw and starts trudging toward the door, Hopper falling into step beside her.

She starts to doubt herself again once they're inside. She ignores everyone's eyes as she passes through the living room. She keeps her head up as she and Hopper head down the hall. But once she's outside the door, she falters. She just stands there, staring at it. Robin has been so quiet since that first day. If Nancy didn't know any better, she'd think she wasn't even in there anymore.

"She's been asking for you," Hopper says beside her. Nancy sucks in a breath, reeling from the words.

"Why?"

He doesn't say anything, just pats her shoulder and pushes her slightly toward the door.

Nancy takes a breath and steps inside.

The room is cold. Bare. Not as harsh and sterile as Steve has described the Russian bunker to be, but as close as they can get in a little cabin in the woods.

But the worst part is Robin sitting in the center. Her head is tilted back, hanging off the back of the chair, but she pulls herself up as she hears the door close behind Nancy.

Her eyes widen. She mouths Nancy's name, but she doesn't actually say anything.

There's a bruise on her jaw. Her hair is messy, but it isn't dirty. Nancy wonders vaguely if Joyce has been washing it.

Nancy leans back against the door. She watches Robin swallow.

"You came," she whispers. Her voice is soft, barely even there, the same beautiful, rough sound Nancy has reveled in for months.

Nancy glares just so she doesn't cry. "What do you want?"

"Nothing." Robin tries to shrug, but she can't really move her shoulders. It's a clumsy, silly move. Nancy hates it.

"Bullshit. Hopper said you asked for me. Why?"

"I wanted to see you. That's all."

"Why?"

She frowns. "Because I miss you."

"Please," Nancy spits. "What do you actually want?"

"I'm telling the truth, Nance."

"When have you ever told the truth?"

Robin winces. She drops her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Don't bother. I don't care."

"I do, though." Robin looks up at her again, a plea in her eyes, and Nancy hates that, too. "I care. I never wanted to--but I couldn't--Nance--"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"I'm sorry," Robin says again. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I hurt you. I--I'm sorry I'm not who you thought I was."

Nancy closes her eyes, unable to see her earnest gaze. She wants to cover her ears, too, to shut out Robin's awful, honest voice.

Because that's just the problem. She is who Nancy thought she was. She can see it in the regret in Robin's eyes, hear it in the love hanging heavy in her voice, even now.

"Why?" she whispers.

"Because I just am. I never wanted to hurt you, not for anything."

"No," says Nancy. "Why did you do it?"

Robin looks away. "Because they told me to."

"That's it?"

"It's all I've ever known," she says, her voice sharper now. But her eyes are soft when she meets Nancy's gaze again. "But I never thought--I didn't know--it all changed, Nancy. I didn't want to keep helping them."

"But you did."

"I had no choice." She leans forward, straining toward Nancy, her voice rough and desperate. "They would've hurt me--and then they would've hurt you, all of you, because they'd know I care about you."

"Stop lying!" Nancy surges forward. She can't push Robin far, not without tipping the whole chair, but she hits her shoulders anyway, shoving her back in her chair.

"I'm not," Robin breathes. She's still beneath her, pliant and waiting for whatever Nancy will do to her. "I promise I'm not."

"You lied. You let us all believe you were someone else. You made Steve think you were his best friend. You made the kids trust you. You--you made me believe you loved me--"

"You made me love you," Robin whispers. "I tried not to. I told myself it was too dangerous. But I couldn't help it."

"I hate you."

"You should."

"Stop. Just stop. I fucking hate you."

"I know."

"I hate that I still love you."

Robin just watches her helplessly, tears in her eyes. Nancy wishes she could hate her. She takes a breath and turns away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

After a moment, she says, "Who hit you?"

She looks over her shoulder in time to see Robin working her jaw.

"Hopper. But in his defense, I was putting up a fight."

"Why?"

"I thought if I could get away, you wouldn't have to deal with this."

"You should've thought of that sooner."

"I did. Every day. But I could never bring myself to run."

"Coward."

"Selfish," Robin corrects her. "For not letting you go. Any of you."

Nancy grits her teeth. "So what now?"

"I think that's up to you, Nance."

She shakes her head. It can't be up to her. She can't do this. She looks at Robin again, but she turns away quickly before she can really see her. She opens her mouth to say something, but anything she can think of is far too dangerous.

So she turns on her heel and walks toward the door instead. She knocks on it, and a moment later Hopper opens it. He looks at her questioningly, but Nancy brushes past him and just keeps walking.

[ronanception]

Oblivious Nancy introducing Robin to Murray all “Oh Robin! You can practice your conversational Russian with Murray!” And he takes one look at how Nancy bats her eyes at Robin and is like “ты уже поцеловала ее?” And Robin goes beet red.

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Thinking of Nancy Wheeler in Boston. It's been less than six months since she left Hawkins with her mom still healing, her siblings still struggling, her friends still trying to move on. The realization college is actually a struggle that makes things worse because it throws her in a race of a life she stopped living since fifteen, is slowly creeping in her head.

Thinking of Nancy Wheeler still pushing it because it should get better, it should be worth it in the end, this is what she has always wanted. The effort to study and keep up with the offered friendships, is another struggle with the lingering trauma and everything that comes with the memories.

Steve stays in Hawkins with the kids. Jonathan left for NYU soon after Nancy left for Boston. Their phonecalls sometimes stretch for hours.

Robin moves to Europe. Always wanted to go to Paris, she said as if it wouldn't tear them apart and it has been three months since Nancy heard anything from her.

The most worrying thing is that Steve doesn't hear from her either. No letters, a phonecall from a phone that doesn't ring when they try to call her back too. The radio silence is quickly festering the memories of healing together, living together, laughing together.

Nancy doesn't know what she'll say when she hears Robin's voice again but it will not be pretty.

Still, when she leaves another lecture in a packed hall of students that know nothing of a machine gun in their hands and a nightmare of a monster made of melted bodies; she doesn't expect two men dressed in suits to be waiting for her. They greet Nancy by using her full name and by knowing her schedule. They show her two different IDs, one of them writing FBI and the other one writing CIA.

And for a moment, Nancy hopes they will tell her of another dimension threatening the planet, another wormhole persisting, another evil lab experimenting with children.

What they say is something else.

They say the Soviet Union had built a grand mall as a front for an underground base, had moved so much cargo and personnel into the state of Indiana as one of the most concerning operations seen in the last dacade, had filled Hawkins with so many spies the town could very well be crawling with them.

They say all of this with calm voices as if there is nothing to worry about, but then they slide a couple of photographs on the bare table of the office they have booked for this chat.

Thinking about Nancy Wheeler losing the ground beneath her feet.

Because the grainy photographs show Robin -Nancy's Robin- leaning a shoulder on a wall at what Nancy can recognize as the back alley of Family Video and talking with a man twice her size who is in the middle of passing her a wide, thick envelope -Steve's Robin- kneeling in front of the front door of the abandoned building of Hawkins Lab as if picking the lock while her goddamn mother stands guard behind her with an actual gun in hand.

Nancy doesn't know what she is seeing; Robin Buckley in back alleys with unknown men who look like military, and Melissa Buckley holding guns and Richard Buckley saluting a red banner showing Soviet Union's hammer and sickle.

She doesn't know what exactly she is hearing; something about a KGB agent finally proving himself a US ally with these photographs, something about Nancy telling them anything she might know that can help the CIA locating the spies, something about having any contact with the russian girl posing as Robin Buckley.

Nancy has nothing to tell them.

Nancy doesn't know how long she stays seated in this office, even after the agents leave her with phone numbers to call if the russian spy posing as Robin Buckley contacts her again.

Dropping out is the easiest thing she's ever done. Calling the number the CIA agent left her and striking up a deal, is one of the trickiest but Nancy manages. She always manages when anger burns through her bloodstream and she can find something to throw her entire self into hunting.

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What were Russian Robin's first impressions of Hawkins? / What was settling in like for her?

Oof that's a nice one. Thank you! Enjoy! Every thought is soooo welcome I promise I am soooo normal about this story.

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Robin was born and raised in Moscow. The big city had always been a comfort, especially after being scouted and taken in by KGB, which casually taught Robin how to find safety in crowds.

For her first mission aboard, Robin had to live in various safe houses around Madrid which meant she had to move a lot, but she loved the little jobs she was trusted with to see through, loved the boulevards, the busy sidewalks and the people found in the city squares. Going back to Moscow after that first mission, which fell short but not because of Robin - everyone told her of what a good job she had done the entire time - it all felt like coming home.

For the second mission, Robin had to travel to Rome and there she learnt how the weight of a gun felt in her hand while she was running. The narrow streets of the old city and the crowds of people saved her more times than she'd ever admit. There'd be food in every corner, people loud enough to take the stress away for a few seconds, a mission challenging enough to forget how Moscow felt. Going back felt like a breath of relief.

For the third mission, Paris it was. And how lovely was the city, so full of everything; people and life and the hustle and bustle of it all. Music, cinema and art. They took so many trips to the countryside during that mission, summer air coming through the window of the car the man posing as her father drove. For the first time, going back to Moscow felt a bit like sadness.

It was different, in Hawkins.

Small town for small people. Everyone - everyone - knew everybody. Faces, names, gossip. So much gossip about their neighbors, their coworkers, their classmates. Walking the main street felt like trying to tiptoe over landmines. Eyes were on Robin in every hallway, every classroom, and suddenly the crowds were the danger. It threw her off - for a good chunk of time of those first months. The attention made her skin crawl; put her on edge so bad she had half the mind of telling the agents posing as her parents to get her out. She missed home so much it physically ached, caused an actually weight to settle on her chest, right above her goddamn heart. Missed the crowds walking the busy streets, missed her real mom and dad, missed the park underneath their apartment. Even missed the goddamn halls of the state buildings various KGB offices resided. But she had a job to look for abnormalities around Hawkins Lab and a mission to complete.

The only good thing; the only moment the hatred of this stupid town went away, came when the sun went down. Hawkins was in the middle of nowhere; woods and cornfields surrounding it for miles. The light pollution was so low it might be non-existant. The night sky lighted itself up. And the stars came out. Colors strerched on the black canvas behind the moon.

Robin would crawl out the bedroom window and sit on the roof and... look up. Lose herself in the sight and view of it all. Never in her life had she imagined the universe could actually look this beautiful.

Years later, a second chair joined hers on the roof but Nancy Wheeler wouldn't mind looking up for that long. Nancy grew up with this sky above her head. Lost the novelty of it. So when Robin lost herself looking at the stars, Nancy took the quiet chance to look at Robin.

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Russian Robin takes Nancy to Moscow and there Nancy meets Robin’s real parents. Just about two seconds in the process of stepping in the aparentment and exchanging greetings, Robin’s mom asks Nancy in broken English if she is the one who keeps her daughter safe out there.

Nancy just about melts and struggles to nod but does, unable to keep up the cold shoulder she’s been giving Robin for months.

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Second part of @dannyslaysdragons's ask about Russian Robin because -ugh- pain. If you thought making Robin part of the russian storyline would mean taking away the trauma of it all -HA- THINK AGAIN

Were there any moments where her role as an agent prevented her from doing things with the Hawkins crew? + What cover story would she spin around it? + What drama did that cause (if any)?

Trigger warnings; torture, abduction, mock execution, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic responses to trauma. As always, please take care of yourselves!

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It isn't the first time, but it also is. First time they do it during an active mission. First time they do it when Robin's in a constant state of awareness of how careful she'd have to be so the americans never found out of who the Buckleys really are.

They do it while she sleeps. The bedroom is way larger than the childhood room at her parents' apartment in Moscow. A window to the roof, a window looking the front road, a door to the hall.

Single bed against the wall, near a desk, across the closet. Curtains left open for streetlights to shine through and keep Robin from sleeping too deep. Might be why she feels them, before they are actually there. She wakes up and listens to the dark. Rolls to face the bedroom instead of the wall. Slowly falls back asleep -

A plank creaks. Robin doesn't have time to adjust to the thin darkness before a hood is over her head, pulling violently enough to cut into the skin of her neck.

The kicks land; a man groans; the sceam is loud enough to wake up her parents but not the neighbors, because a rough punch lands on her chest and cuts off air. The hood pulls; fabric rubs against her mouth; the band cuts into her throat, aiming to choke her -

"Please-"

"Shut up".

The man's accent is thick and so undoubtedly american, Robin feels her blood turn to ice. In the second of her frozen surprise, they have her hands pulled tight with zipties.

"Up". Another one barks, muffled as if he is wearing a hood too. One, two, three pairs of big hands grab Robin and violently pull her off the bed, down to the floor, up her socked feet.

She screams again, thrashing, but something firm and thin -a shoelace- wraps around her throat again, shutting her up.

"The quieter you are, the easier it will be", he barks and -good god- how did they find out. What did they see that-

They get her down the stairs, through the kitchen to the back door. The shoelace tightens with a warning right before the back door opens.

"Fucking try it", the american soldier snarls. "See if anyone cares when we tell 'em who you people are".

"I'm not -" Robin cannot breathe. "Please, I don't know what -" The rough ground digs in her bare feet, as they get her to the treeline and the thick patch of the forest. "I'm Robin. Robin Buckley, sir, I don't know -"

"Shut up. You'll answer when we ask".

The hood is thick enough to not be able to track the woods. She doesn't know where they are taking her; one, two, four pairs of boots hit the ground hard. The hands on her are rough, big and gloved. They breathe heavy; all four of them. A crackle of a radio comes from one of them. English paints the command. English vividly answers it.

Robin's ears are ringing. Doesn't know how long they drag her through the woods before she is shoved against a thick surface. The zipties are cutting the skin of her wrists, but are not tight enough to make her hands go numb. She feels the roughness of the stone, rock after rock lined up firm. A wall. In the middle of the woods.

"Turn around". She is shaking bad enough to press a shoulder to the wall. Boots crash the ground, coming closer. A rough hand turns her around- the sharp edge of an object digs against her skull - and she knows. She knows.

"Please".

"Do you know what this is?"

"Yeah. Yes. Please, I'm- I haven't done anything".

"Who do you work for?"

"No one? No one. I'm just - I'm just Robin. My dad is- he's with he police and h-he is -"

"Cut the bullshit. Are you KGB?"

"N-no. No. I'm American. I'm-"

"The fuck you are. Tell us, and I will call this off".

"C-Call it off? I don't know what-"

"Okay, she's useless, let's get this over with".

"Sure. Five steps back". Robin counts them. "Load". The safety of the gun is clicked off. "Aim".

Her heart shutters and she wishes she- "Wait. Wait, please. I don't understand. I don't understand, please".

"Who do you work for, kid? Last chance".

Robin pulls against the zipties, thinks of her mom and dad and home.

"I'm just Robin", she says and wishes it was an apology even if they'd never know.

"Fire".

The gunshot echoes loud enough for the birds on the trees to cry out.

Robin-

Robin is still on her feet. Takes a second to realize she is not breathing properly, takes a second to register the sobs catching at her throat and breaking out in choked puffs of sound.

A hand takes the hood off. Melissa has a firm look in her eyes and a relieved smile on her face.

"You did good", she gently says and Robin-

The ground is rough against her cheek, but she doesn't care. They untie her hands as she sobs the fear out, as her body spasms against the horror of it all.

Mock execution were never easy. This is the first one Robin wishes was real.

"Hey, little bird".

"Don't fucking touch me". It comes out in broken Russian. Robin curls up against the ground and lets herself whimper the fear out. It doesn't work but Richard throws a thin blanket over the lower half of her body and tells her to take as much time as she needs. Tells her there are clean clothes next to her, a drink and a few snacks.

The agents are dispatching into the darkness of the woods. Melissa stays, a few feet away to let Robin calm down on her own. Starts to hum an old lullaby her mom used to sing. Robin wants to tell her to shut the fuck up.

It takes quite some time, Robin doesn't know how long, but when she finally feels like moving, the grey colors of the sunrise are brushing over the world. She changes her pajamas silently, puts on the shoes. Takes a gulp of water and opens a packet of chocolate just to smell it. Tries to follow Melissa to the house but cannot get her knees to work. Melissa helps enough for them to reach the house and then the living room's couches. One of them is already set up for Robin to pass out.

She barely sleeps, but somehow, time passes. When she blinks her eyes open, Melissa is sitting next to her with a serious look on her face. She speaks in soft Russian to say Steve Harrington is on the driveway, waiting for her. She asks with an even softer tone, if Robin wants to take the day off.

Robin doesn't answer her. Drags herself upstairs to the bathroom to clean herself and changes into thick clothes. Hawkins autumn still carries summer heat, but Robin dresses into a thick hoodie anyway, cutting two holes for her thumbs on the sleeves, to keep her bruised wrists hidden.

Robin doesn't say a word as she drags herself back down and through the living room. Feels Melissa watching her. Steve lights up as soon as she is out of the door.

"Okay, how ready are you? Answer truthfully. Because I am not at all in the mood for their nerd shit". He freezes. "Hey. You okay?"

Robin feels her stomach rolling. Forcing her voice out is a task she never thought herself incapable of. Shakes her head instead.

His hands are on her arms. Big but soft. He smells like cologne and hairspray. Robin pushes forward until she presses against him. Arms immediately wrap around her, a soothing voice stumbling over asking questions so she can be taken care of.

"Nightmares?" is the final thing he asks.

She nods against his chest.

"Evil Russians?"

The laugh drags another sob out. His hold tightens as a protective vest inflating around her. Steve coos stupid, soothing sounds, and Robin slowly feels herself returning into her body.

"How mad are they going to be if we ditch them?"

"So mad". Steve rubs her back without looking ready to move just yet. "They worked on those character sheets the entire weekend. But, hey, we can always get Nancy to tell them to fuck off".

Robin nods again and finally pulls back. "Can you do the talking?"

Steve beams down at her. "Hell yeah. You know I want nothing more than to reject this fucking nerdy game".