Chapter Text
Entering the store with a frown, Robin headed for the staff room, putting away her bag and completely ignoring the presence of Steve, who followed the scene with a smile. It really wasn't his fault that Keith had chosen the two of them to close up shop, and he wasn't especially to blame for the hangover that was killing Robin's Saturday morning.
The girl returned, still frowning, and walked over to the counter, where she sat down, still avoiding eye contact with Steve.
Harrington opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off immediately.
"I don't care that it's not your fault, if I were you I'd stay quiet," she extended her hand in a 'stop' sign. "And wipe that stupid smile off your face, it's making me feel worse."
Steve shrugged, moving away from her and taking a box of new tapes to the nearly empty shelf in a hallway.
Most of the day was quiet, with few customers. It was autumn, but even though the Halloween decorations were about to be put up, Hawkins seemed to want to get as far away as possible from anything related to monsters and demonic apparitions. Especially because, even for the most skeptical part of the population, the end that the Mall had taken, the disappearances, and even the incident with Will Byers were too much to be just coincidences .
So they did what a small town does best: create stories. Stories about demonic board games, books cursed with rings and wizards, and bands that wore black and worshiped terribly evil creatures.
Harrington was never the type to worry about such things, even before he knew about the Demogorgons, the Upside Down, and bald kids with telekinesis. Mass hysteria wasn't his strong suit.
Because he used to follow his family's ideals, hoping for a future like his father's (wife and beautiful children - yes, he wanted more than one -, a well-paying job, and a perfect, dignified reputation), Steve understood the idea of blaming things as simple as games and books for all the harm the population suffered.
It was easier. Blaming cults and brainwashing was simpler and quicker than analyzing every case of violence, abuse, and hate crimes that took place on the sly. Taking the weight off their backs and the blood off the hands of corrupt and ineffective authorities, and putting it on 14-year-olds who just wanted to go for a walk, but ended up disappearing from the map.
They got rid of the excluded and protected the powerful: two birds with one stone.
The point was: Hawkins was afraid of the unusual. And Steve was like that, too, for a long time; when you must protect the position of "King" in high school, you avoid many things and people .
"Fear can be good," he remembered hearing Nancy say it once when they were still hanging out together. "It protects you from the unknown when your sense of judgment is faulty."
And Steve's sure as hell was. After meeting Robin, Dustin, and the rest of his friends, he realized this. But he still had that strange feeling about some things, and sometimes he was scolded for it.
This feeling of strangeness – a suspicious look accompanied by the need to protect any loved one within a 6ft radius – appeared that same Saturday, at 9 pm.
"Steve! Get over here!"
The man left the servants' room, where he was taking a well-deserved nap, totally startled by the girl's tone of despair.
"What?! What happened, did anyone get in here?!"
Robin was looking at him with a confused expression as if it was extremely obvious what was going on.
"No, doofus! Look outside, it's almost nine o'clock!"
"And what does that have to do with–"
Buckley turned the man's face to the windowpane, forcing him to examine whatever was surprising her so much. Steve stared at the store's sidewalk for a few seconds, waiting for something to emerge. That's when he saw a shadow enter from the right, almost a blur.
As he crossed the front of the store and sat on the floor in front of the windows, his appearance became more and more human. It was just a man, a boy, probably 19 or 20 years old, with long black curly hair that matched the rest of his mostly black outfit.
"What the..." Steve sighed, inadvertently, and Robin released him, knowing he wouldn't look away now. Neither of them knew how to interpret that sigh.
Outside the store, the boy was lighting a cigarette.
"Remember Eddie Munson? He did senior year like three times, plays that wizard game the boys like."
"D&D." He confirmed it, and then all the information fit together like puzzle pieces. "Wait, Munson? The Freak, that Munson?"
Robin nodded, still displeased that the nickname lingered in Steve's mind. Eddie seemed like a nice guy, and Steve was on the same level of weirdness as Munson, in her opinion.
The two continued to look at Eddie, silent, watching him closely. While Robin looked like a rookie psychology student who'd just discovered body language, Steve had a "What the fuck am I supposed to be seeing?" kind of expression.
Eddie slowly got to his feet; He dropped his cigarette stub on the floor, stepped on it, and stretched. Then he turned back to where we came from, crossing the storefront again and disappearing into the night
Inside the video store, Steve was still staring outside as if he'd seen the most confusing and intriguing movie of his life.
"So…" he began, turning his face slowly to Robin but not taking his eyes off the outside, hoping for something else to explain her friend's enthusiasm. “What did you want to show me?"
"What?! You don't remember?"
"Munson? I do, of course, I remember him! But I don't understand what's so interesting about him that made you interrupt my nap."
"My bad, Sleeping Beauty!" She waved her hands in the air, and then came around the counter with a distracted look. "I thought you'd be interested in a possible vampire."
Steve laughed, raising an eyebrow.
"Vampire?" He leaned in front of the other, covering his mouth with one hand, pretending to think about it. "He might be exotic , but–"
She interrupted him, holding up her index finger.
“You know I don't like that word, Steve."
Weight fell on Steve's shoulders, a pang of guilt he would carry for the next few hours unconsciously.
"Sorry. But as…” He looked away, trying to find the best non-pejorative way to describe Munson. “ Uncommon as Eddie may be, I think 'vampire' is a bit much. You don't see me calling you a zombie, do you?"
"That's because I'd kick your ass if you did."
They smiled, and Robin followed him to the employees' room again.
"But think about it! He stopped going out during the day out of the blue and actually dropped out of high school even though he was super excited to finally finish it. Dustin said he's also acting weird and—
"Dustin? Since when are you two friends?"
Robin picked up her bag and rolled her eyes.
“The boy is funny, Steve. Focus!"
Harrington laughed, opening the door for his colleague and heading towards the power panel, intending to turn off the lights.
“Eddie is quieter than usual, and he doesn't go out like he used to. He even reduced rehearsals with the band and their club meetings ."
"You're a stalker now, Buckley?"You know a lot about him, should I be worried about you leaving me for Munson?"
The girl nodded, following the lights that dimmed in sequences.
“I think trading a womanizing playboy for a bloodsucking metalhead is like trading six for half a dozen."
In the darkness, Steve's face twisted into an irritated grimace.
Robin smiled, following her colleague out of the store, finally feeling the chilly autumn breeze against her face. Steve locked the doors, hands cold from having left the damn jacket in his bedroom during the morning.
“You shouldn’t watch so many horror movies, Robs. Those things will give you nightmares."
“Don't talk to me like I'm a kid, Steve!"
They got into the car, the girl had her arms crossed, disappointed with the other's lack of interest.
Along the way, they exchanged few words, something that was strange for both of them. The radio was playing a new pop song that indeed Robin couldn't bear to hear, and Steve was just pretending to feel the same, even though he was a huge fan of Stacey Q . Sometimes Harrington drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of the music and sang softly, hoping his friend would join him.
When he arrived at Buckley's house, Steve still had an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, a strange anguish he felt whenever she was silent for too long or stopped responding to his calls. As soon as he got out of the car, Robin turned around and crouched down so her face was level with Steve's.
“You know, I thought someone like you would understand my concern about the existence of a vampire."
Steve smiled, confused. "Like me ?"
And then his discomfort increased. What was she talking about? Steve had so many secrets that only Robin knew and traits that would make him hunted in a small town like Hawkins. What was she talking about?
"You've fought monsters so many times! After giant beings from another dimension, would it be so impossible to see a living dead with a thirst for blood?"
Harrington's eyes widened a little, suddenly starting to understand her point of view, but also feeling grateful that he didn't have to deal with more identity crises in front of Robin.
"Anyway, good night buddy! See you on Monday."
She slapped the roof of the car twice, saying goodbye. Steve followed her into the house with his eyes, but his mind was elsewhere.
Robin was right – as usual, apparently –, in the face of so many scary creatures, would it be so impossible to find a vampire in the middle of the street at night?
" Speaking of night , " he thought, scanning the moon before shifting the car into reverse, heading back toward his own house. The moon was almost full, " I'm so glad tomorrow is Sunday."