Chapter Text
Saturday January 18th, 1986
Robin shivered a little as she parked her bike in the otherwise empty bike rack. Her bike was the only one there, as it was the middle of January and there was at least six inches of snow on the ground with more to come. She took off her helmet and stuffed it into her bag and brushed off any snow on her body. She wrapped her arms around herself as she walked through the doors of the video store. She shoved past a customer a little more rudely than she would've on a good day and made her way behind the counter.
"Oh, aggressive today I see," Steve joked from a shelf where he was rearranging a display.
"Can it, dingus," she said, glaring daggers at him, her words having more bite than usual.
"Jeez, touchy. Sorry," he replied, not understanding what her issue was.
"I said can it, Steve." She sounded pissed. Steve knew he could be annoying, but it'd never really bothered Robin this much. Even on a bad day his antics could usually get a small laugh or smile out of her. Steve put his hands up in surrender and went back to quietly rearranging the display. From where Steve was working, he could hear all of Robin's interactions with the customers. Her voice was quiet and gravelly and her usual sarcastic tone and dry humor were gone, replaced by an exhausted sounding monotone.
At the counter, Robin stood before a line of about four customers waiting to purchase or rent a film. It was 10 am. Steve had literally unlocked the doors ten minutes before she got there and there was already a line of people. What the actual fuck. She didn't feel like dealing with people today. Her throat felt like it'd been clawed out by a cat and her head pounded. She was thoroughly exhausted, and the fact that her nose was dripping near constantly was both gross and annoying. After the line was gone, she rested her forehead on the counter and groaned quietly. She rubbed her nose on her sleeve, which resulted in a sneeze, followed by coughing rooted in her chest that she tried her hardest to stifle.
Steve looked over from where he was to see Robin looking miserable, her face buried in the crook of her elbow.
"Whoa, whoa, Robin, are you... okay?" he asked tentatively, taking a few steps in her direction.
"I'm just peachy, thanks," she quipped, sniffling a little. Steve walked all the way to the counter and looked at Robin. Her blue eyes were clouded over and her cheeks and nose were flushed. "Do you need something?" she asked dryly. Steve frowned at the obviously ill girl in front of him.
"Are you okay to be working?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.
"I'm fine, dingus," Robin answered. "You don't need to look after me like a child." Steve sighed.
"I'm not looking after you like a child. I'm looking after you like a friend, and as your friend, I'm telling you that you look and sound like garbage." Robin glared at him, though the pink on her cheeks and nose severely undermined the effects. She suddenly pulled away to bury her face in her arm once again and sneezed twice. In the brief second Robin left herself vulnerable, Steve quickly placed his hand on her forehead, trying to gauge a temperature. "Yo, what the fuck, Robin," he breathed, removing his hand. "You're a goddamn furnace. What the hell made you think working today was a good idea?"
"Money," she replied, shrugging. Steve sighed.
"Okay, well, you need to go home. I'm serious, dude, you're gonna die or something," he said, and despite his joking tone, his facial expression said he was very concerned.
"It's a cold, I won’t die. Stop being stupid," Robin sighed, shaking her head.
"You have a fever and you need to go home," Steve answered, becoming frustrated. “C’mon pack up your shit, you’re leaving.”
"Steve, please, you know I can't stand doing nothing," She replied, trying keep her tone assertive, but instead coming out as a hoarse groan. Steve, naturally, didn't listen to her, and instead, grabbed her bag. And, almost as if it was a secondary thought, his jean jacket, which her wrapped around Robin's shoulders and began pulling her outside "No, Steve, stop!" she barked. "Let go!" They walked out the front doors and Steve looked around, most likely for a car for her to drive home, when his eyes landed on her bike.
"Rob... is that your bike? Have you really been riding your bike through the snow every day?" He asked, knowing the answer, but afraid of the confirmation. She silently nodded. Steve dropped his face into his hands and huffed.
"Steve, you know I can't afford a car." She looked down at her converse.
"Then ask me for a ride!" He looked down at Robin, who was still avoiding eye contact.
"I can't make you drive me every day," she said, beginning to feel guilty for even being there.
"You wouldn't 'make' me do anything? Rob, you know I'd happily drive you to and from work. Just. Ask me to come pick you up next time, okay?" He put his hands on her shoulders, and she finally looked up from the ground to look at him. "Jesus Christ," he sighed, noticing her shivering. "You didn't even wear anything warm today." Which was correct. She had on her red converse, a pair of old high-waist jeans, a thin long sleeve t-shirt, and no coat. "For fuck's sake, no wonder you're sick. Get inside," he said, pushing her back towards the doors of the video store.
Once back inside, they sat together on an empty display case as Steve was left trying to figure out what to do with Robin, who was currently leaning on him, still wrapped in his jacket and shivering. He could just drive her home and go back to work, but that would leave her there alone. And, he hated the idea of leaving her alone when she was out of it like this. He'd close the store and skip work to stay with her or take her back to his place, but if he got caught blowing off work... again... he would definitely be out of the job. Robin coughed tiredly into her shoulder, tearing Steve from his thoughts. He looked down at her, eyes open, but unfocused as if in a daze. She looked absolutely no better than before, her face still flushed with a fever Steve could feel through his clothes. Her head rested on his bicep, and she was clearly exhausted. Poor thing.
"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked under his breath. He took a deep breath before simply putting his hand on her head and holding it there. She leaned into him more, which broke his heart, because she was never this intimate. She was touch-starved and sick, and Steve had absolutely no idea how to help her. After another moment of thinking, he gently pushed Robin off of him, despite her mumbling protests. Then he picked her up and carried her bridal style to the counter and set her down there.
"Steve, what are you doing?" She asked softly.
"Still trying to figure that out," he replied. He turned around and opened the door behind the counter, that led to the employee break room. He scooped Robin back up and carried her back. The room was relatively small and smelled like stale weed, but it was warm and kind of comfortable, and there was a mini fridge, a small wooden table, and an ugly, but soft couch. "Okay, so. I think our best bet is for you to stay back here and sleep and shit, and when my shift is over in three hours I'll take you home," Steve said, picking up an old knitted blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch, and wrapping it around Robin over the jean jacket. While this did little to nothing to stop the chills wracking her, she seemed grateful. She lazily tied her hair in a bun before laying down. "I'm up front if you need me," he said, smiling a little and gently patting her shoulder before leaving the room, the door clicking softly.
Steve came back and checked on her a few times, waking her up to make sure she wasn't dead or dying, or just to see if he could get her to laugh, which, he usually could. A few minutes after 1 o'clock, Keith came in to take over the store, as Steve and Robin's shifts ended then. Steve went into the back to get Robin, who jolted awake the second he touched her.
"Robin, you okay?" he asked, looking at her somewhat panicked expression.
"What time is it?" She asked, voice painfully hoarse.
"It's like, one fifteen," Steve answered.
"Shit!" Robin yelled jumping up from the couch. "Shit, shit," she mumbled looking around for her things.
"What's the issue?" Steve asked, walking towards her equal parts confused and concerned.
'Steve! Thank God you're here!" She practically shrieked, running up to him. "I am... late. I need a ride to the school!" She grabbed his wrist and started pulling on him.
"Whoa, wait. For what? Rob, we talked about this, you're going home." Steve eyed her worriedly. The heat was coming off her body in waves, and he was pretty sure that was a bad thing.
"Band practice. My director will kill me if I don't show up."
"Wait what? No, you never said anything about having a rehearsal today, plus you're sick." Robin aggressively shook her head no, tears welling in her eyes.
"Steve, please, I can't- I can't mi-" Her voice gave out to a harsh coughing fit halfway through her sentence, and she sniffled somewhat pathetically. Steve pushed her hair back with his hand to get a firm feel of her forehead. It was high, much higher than it'd been earlier.
"Shit." He gently but quickly picked Robin up and carried her out while she squirmed in his arms, crying and sniffling. He unlocked his car and placed her down in the passenger seat before running around to the driver side. "Fuck, she's delirious," he sighed, looking at her in his peripheral vision. She was still teary eyed, but had mostly calmed down. She kept coughing however, and the sound of it hurt Steve's chest. He really regretted not taking her home sooner, but now his only option was to get her someplace she could get medicine and rest.
On the quick drive, Steve said screw it with Robin's place and he drove straight to his own house. He pulled into the driveway and parked the car, quickly making his way around the car to get Robin out. He once again scooped her up and carried her inside, gently dumping her on the couch.
"This isn't the school, Steve," she said confused, her face one-hundred percent serious.
"Yeah, I know. I brought you back to my house," he answered looking around for blankets to give her.
"I said I had rehearsal." Her sentence was punctuated by two sneezes, and she scrubbed at her nose.
"I know what you said, and I call bullshit," he said in a quiet voice, walking towards her with a fleece blanket in his arms. "It's a Saturday afternoon, there's no way you have any band practices today. And even if you did, you're way too sick to go," he finished. wrapping the blanket around her.
"They're called rehearsals, dingus." She mumbled, leaning into him. She pulled away to cough again, and Steve winced.
"Jesus, you sound terrible. I'm gonna go get some meds and a thermometer," Steve said, carefully moving Robin. He stood and left the room, and Robin could hear a faint clunking and rustling down the hall. He came back a few minutes later with the promised items. "Okay, fever check first," he sighed, shaking the mercury to the bottom of the thermometer. He handed it to Robin and after making sure it was firmly under her tongue, he went to go fill up a glass with water. He came back and set the water on the table, and after about three minutes, he pulled the thermometer out of Robin's mouth and reading the number at which the silver liquid had stopped. "One-oh-two point five. Christ, whatever bug this is is really kicking your ass," he said, only half joking. He then read the labels on the bottle of cold and flu medicine and poured some of the aggressively red colored liquid into the cap. Robin scrunched up her face and pushed him away.
"That shit tastes awful," she whined, far too out of it to hear how childish she sounded.
"Yeah, I know, but Rob, please just drink it." She was seventeen and almost one hundred percent independent, and of all the things the two argued about, Steve did not want to fight her about taking medicine. Luckily for him, she didn't fight him. She glared at him a little, but took it from him and downed it like a shot before gasping and reaching for the glass of water. He sat down next to her and she put the glass back on the coffee table. She once again slumped up against him, putting most of her body weight on him. He reached around and put his arm around her torso, while the other hand reached for the TV remote. He watched Robin's eyes fluttered closed as he turned on the TV to some daytime channel and lowered the volume. "Feel better, dumbass," he said gently as she fell asleep.