Chapter Text
Robin is the one who answers Steve’s door although that gives her too much credit. She just flings it open, body still angled back into the house yelling at one of the kids presumably. Her hair is wet, shower fresh, and she’s wearing a wrinkled t-shirt that must be Eddie’s. It ends mid-thigh and Vickie wonders if she’s even wearing any shorts. She’s a mess.
“Thank god you’re here. Steve is making breakfast for everyone and he’s about one pancake flip from snapping.”
Vickie shuts the door behind her, tailing Robin. “Is it because you’re calling him mom again?”
Robin waves her hand dismissively. “He shouldn’t act like one then.”
She’d left on the early side last night after they finished Young Sherlock Holmes but it’s immediately clear that most of the others spent the night. The Byers clan seems to be the only ones missing from the pajama clad group still lounging on their sleeping bags. The coffee table’s pushed against the wall to make a bigger space on the floor for the kids.
She knows from a drunken conversation with Steve early in summer that he prefers the house like this, full of people. She remembers the way he swept his arm out like a showman and said, “The perfect house for a growing family. Four bedrooms, big living room for family nights, a pool, and an open kitchen.” He’d looked around then, frowning. “And then Dad just couldn’t give it up after, I think, so the two of us just stay here in this house meant for a big family.”
It’s good to see the place as it should be. Though she can already hear Steve bitching at someone as they approach the kitchen.
“Vickie!” He shouts with obvious relief the moment she enters. Turning to Eddie, Dustin, and Erica, he starts shooing them. “Out, Shitheads. I’m not going to wear an apron and I’m not putting food dye in the pancakes.”
He’s got a towel slung over his shoulder and something smudged across his cheek that the others have clearly decided not to tell him about.
Robin leans against her back, draped there, and whispers, “Please calm him down before he sends us to the orphanage.”
All five of them tumble out laughing all the way, leaving her with Steve.
“What’s in the oven?”
“Quiche,” he tells her flatly. He bristles at the first twitch of her lips, pointing a finger. “Not you too.”
She laughs at him anyway. “Sorry, sorry. What do you need?”
“Cut the fruit while I finish the pancake batter?”
“Got it, Mama Steve,” she chirps. She’s not at all surprised when he throws the dirty towel right in her face.
—————-
It’s mercilessly hot even on yet another overcast day. Robin has a mole above her collarbone and one on the back of her right arm. She can feel each bone of her spine.
“Okay, okay. I’m gonna die still smelling like Coppertone. It’s your turn,” Robin says, turning on the lawn chair they’re sharing. Vickie pulls her hands away quick, rubbing the excess onto her thighs.
“Come on, turn around for me,” Robin directs, squirting a puddle of sunscreen into her hands.
“I can’t. I think I melted.”
“Hm, let’s see if I can fix that.” Robin’s pinches her side with the hand not covered in sunscreen, before tickling in earnest.
Her shrieking giggles can’t be helped. “Oh my god. I’m turning. I’m turning.” She slaps uselessly at Robin’s hand.
When she twists herself around, Steve catches her eye and winks. The cold press of Robin’s lotioned hands meet the small of her back before she can decipher what it means.
Her hands sweep up, massaging the sunscreen in. Vickie shuts her eyes tight when she visibly shivers in reaction to Robin’s fingers on her neck.
“Ticklish there too?” Robin asks from just behind her. She’s not. She’s overheated and overwhelmed. Her brain’s felt less fuzzy drunk.
“Yeah,” she tries to say but it comes out wrong when Robin puts her hand at the nape of her neck and sort of squeezes. Her leg spasms straight into both their cups creating a lemonade river that runs from the patio into the grass.
“Oh my god. Sorry, sorry,” Robin shouts, too loud. The chair squeaks horribly as she scrambles up from behind Vickie. “Was just tickling, swear.”
“No, it was definitely me. I forgot they were down there.” She kind of wishes she could be the lemonade right now, sinking into the grass, disappearing. Robin’s fluttering around, wiping sunscreen onto her legs with a sort of terrified pale look to her. A good contrast to Vickie’s flaming cheeks.
She doesn’t understand what just happened.
Leaning over, she picks both sticky cups up. No one is even looking in their direction; the kids are loudly arguing that Max’s scores for the cannonball competition are biased.
“I’m just going to refill these. I guess?” she makes a half-hearted gesture towards Steve’s house.
“Um, right. Ok, thanks.” Robin won’t look at her. Vickie feels a little sick. Why was she so weird? Some sunscreen had her acting like, like-. It’s too early for heat stroke.
Beelining for the sliding glass door, she doesn’t look at anyone. Sternly reminds herself that no one noticed anything, nothing happened to notice.
Toucha, toucha, touch me, plays across her mind mockingly. Even while they were watching it, Vickie knew that movie would come back to haunt her. She hasn’t dated since Dan. Starved for affection. Her neck prickles and she can feel the warmth of Robin’s hand there.
It’s not that.
It can’t be.
She’d know if it was. She’s never had friends like these, so easy with their affection, that’s all.
She closes the door behind her, feeling calmer the moment the air conditioning breathes on her and the noise from outside is muffled. Everyone is having so much fun. A bit of a shock considering how she knows this party came to be.
It was Argyle who asked if Steve’s pool was broken, why he hadn’t filled it for the summer. Honestly, Vickie had wondered too. She attended only one Harrington party her entire high school career but she remembers the pool being used. Seemed a crime to suffer through Indiana heat when a private pool sat right there.
Jonathan had dragged Argyle off while Nancy and Steve stared at each other pale and twitching. Nancy stood, something awe inspiring in her posture, sweeping the blinds away from the sliding glass door.
“Nancy.” Steve said like sorry, like Vickie’s childhood best friend four days after her mom’s funeral saying I don’t know what to do.
Vickie remembers being glued to the spot beside Robin, neither one of them moving, both of them knowing they should leave. Robin’s like her though too curious, always listening, watching.
“Fill it. Invite everyone for a party.” Nancy’s back was to them. She moved over to the light switch, flicking until the back patio was illuminated. Her exhale was audible and Vickie had to wonder what she was seeing out there.
“She-That’s not where she died, not really. It does no one any good, leaving it like this. If we start treating every place like a memorial there’s not going to be anything left of Hawkins. I think it’ll mean more if we invite all the kids and fill it with laughter and noise. Make it something better.”
“Nancy Wheeler,” Steve breathed.
“Yeah, I’m a goddamned marvel,” she said, echoing everyone’s private thoughts.
Vickie was jealous. Jealous of her, of whatever information they all knew, of the deep-seated understanding that always swirled between all of them, of the way they carried themselves like they had survived something more than just childhood. Reckless, she thinks again.
Robin tells her that night when they’re stretched out on the couch, everyone else asleep somewhere, about Barbara Holland, about how Steve’s pool was the last time anyone saw her. Vickie knows a well of information is missing, but she knows better than to ask. I don’t want you to get hurt, Robin said once. Her father saying, they’re involved in something dangerous.
Now, looking out at Argyle braiding Nancy and Jonathan’s hair, at the shrieking kids, at Eddie trying to teach Jane how to flip into the water, at Robin and Steve having some dramatic gesture conversation, she thinks Nancy got what she wanted.
Sure, there was a quiet moment when Eddie made a not funny joke about his and Steve’s gruesome dog attack scars or when Lucas carefully lifted Max out of her chair and onto the pool steps. Even those moments are suffused with something warm.
She pulls the lemonade pitcher out, refills their cups and tells herself to relax. The door squeaks open when she’s putting the pitcher back.
“Hey, Steve sent me to get the watermelon. Said there should be a few tupperware containers. Probably won’t be enough. Those kids are like animals. Act like their parents aren’t feeding them,” Robin rambles too fast.
“Bottomless pits,” she agrees, a little too fast, too high as well. “At least the pizza is coming soon. Might appease the monsters into leaving some fruit for us.”
Robin stacks the containers in her arms and tilts her head back at the door. “Can you get it?”
“Course.” She grips their cups with one hand and pulls the door open, follows Robin back out into the heat.
Nancy tugs her down to share a chair with her and the two boys, talking eagerly about an article in the Hawkins Post. Vickie could almost forget the weirdness except for the way Robin and her keep catching each other’s eyes. It’s not weird, the looks, it’s something like a question each time, like a private conversation.
Halfway through pizza, after Vickie watches Robin lick a stray bead of watermelon juice from her arm, someone switches out the tape to The Never Ending Story soundtrack. It barely even starts before Dustin’s jerking into motion. “Which one of you assholes bought that? How long are you going to keep this up?”
They’re all singing so loudly no one seems to notice when Dustin unplugs the stereo. At reach the stars Steve offers Robin his hand and pulls her into a semi waltz both of them still singing loudly.
“You all act like that song didn’t save everyone’s life,” Dustin grumbles but everyone is dancing by that point. Erica just pats Dustin’s shoulder with a look of glee.
Robin and Steve start grappling each other for who’s leading until Robin forces Steve into an actual dip. “Why I never,” Steve drawls in the worst accent she’s ever heard, fanning his face all the while. Robin spins him right into Eddie’s arms. She has a moment to watch Eddie pull Steve in close, watch them just sway back and forth, before Robin’s tugging her up.
“Look at what you see in her face,” Robin mumbles, her warm hands pulling Vickie in and letting her back out.
“The mirror of your dreams,” Vickie sings back at her because even she knows every word at this point.
Robin twirls them both around, laughing. Vickie’s breathless and then they’re careening into the pool with twin shrieks.
Vickie comes back up laughing, wiping her eyes free of water. Robin’s the first thing she sees, wet hair in her face, smile stretching wide.
Maybe it could be like that.
—————-
Kali Prasad is a bitch and Vickie hates her. She rolls into a town like another earthquake. Screeching tires, hard rock music, nicotine stained fingers, bubble gum snapping and an attitude that makes Vickie want to shrink. Or hit her but Vickie has never hit anyone in her life.
Robin tells her she’s Jane’s step sister and Steve says she’s Joyce’s cousin. Vickie lets it go as just another lie to protect her.
The entire dynamic shifts to enclose her in an infuriating way. All of them seem to relax a little from the state of hyper vigilance they’d snapped into a few weeks back and Vickie’s glad for that at least. It’s just that the kids think she’s badass, Eddie talks music with her, Nancy asks her for advice on self defense, Joyce gives her sad eyes and spoons extra eggs onto her plate. Robin is by far the worst though.
Robin’s either talking to her or about her. She teases her, orbits her really. One day at Family Video while Robin’s helping her pick classes for her first semester of college, Kali saunters in with her ugly platform boots.
“Buckley, Babe. Hoping I’d find you here.” The lead of Vickie’s pencil breaks. “I’ve been told your the girl I need.”
She leans against the counter into Robin’s space and doesn’t even spare a glance for Vickie. She pushes a couple of tapes across the counter.
Vickie watches red sweep over Robin’s face all the way to the tip of her ears, watches her duck her head. She sort of wants to grab Robin’s chin, redirect her attention.
“I am one of kind. But what exactly do you need me for?” Robin asks, turning the first tape over in her hand.
If it’s a mixed tape, Vickie might scream for real. She feels hot and cold. Kali’s eyes flicker over to her then and her smile is mean, dismissive.
“They’re Russian. Was hoping you could translate it for me?”
Robin straightens with obvious excitement. “Oh, yeah. Of course. I can probably finish it today if it stays slow. Is it, uh, urgent?” Her eyes cut over to Vickie very obviously.
“Nope. Just making sure of some things. I’ll see you tonight at the meeting, little genius,” Kali says. Then she reaches up and gives Robin’s hair a little tug.
It is unbearable to watch.
Robin moons over her. That’s the word she’s been looking for.
It’s impossible not to see or not to understand what it means about Robin. They’re literally flirting with each other. It’s obvious, undeniable.
Vickie’s gut churns at the knowledge that Robin’s kept it from her. Deemed her untrustworthy on some level even after Steve and Eddie. Then she shuffles through a ream of guilt for thinking she deserves all of Robin’s secrets. And then later, in the privacy of her head, up in her bedroom, she tries to picture Kali and Robin kissing.
It makes her feel insane so instead she thinks about the way Robin will wiggle her toes underneath Vickie’s butt during movie nights. How sometimes at the diner their knees will touch under the table, or when they walk, arms occasionally brushing, how their eyes always find each other. Vickie is so completely aware of her at all times. She has been since some point in Sophomore year.
Vickie does not want Kali to touch Robin. She’s very sure of that.
Her brain skims over other girls unsure whether she’s trying to prove or disprove a theory. Her potential bisexuality being the theory. Phoebe Cates unclipping her bikini top drops into her mind like a bomb. Sweat prickles on her neck just remembering. When she rewound the movie, she paused at that scene and re-watched it twice. She thought she was jealous of the actress.
Vickie feels like one of the kids she used to help through homework at the library. Zero reading comprehension here.
The problem with this, of course, is that Robin’s both the only one she’d want to talk with about this and the only one she can’t talk to.
Steve Harrington, Hawkin’s royalty, likes men and women. Articulating any of this to someone else makes her feel itchy though. In any case, he’s Robin’s very best friend and there’s no way for her to talk about this without Robin being the epicenter of it which is pretty telling. Vickie rolls facedown into the pillows and allows herself one strangled yell.
In the end, it’s Will who says something.
She’s leaning against the counter, wondering absently about how to broach the topic with Robin. If she should even broach the topic wth Robin. Kali’s traveled all over the country. She’s independent in a way Vickie never will be, in a way she’s knows Robin dreams of. Vickie’s not even positive about what she’s feeling. What’s the point in stepping between Robin and Kali if she can’t follow through? What’s the point in potentially ruining their friendship. Would Robin even be interested? Why would she be?
Lately, Vickie feels like she can’t even function with the swirl of her confusing thoughts.
Across the kitchen, Kali flicks her wet hands at Robin in the kitchen where they’re washing dishes together. Robin used to hate the washing up.
“Vickie? You want to help us hang the lights in the back?” She jerks back to life, face hot. Will is standing beside her, looking nervous as usual. He hurts her heart in the way her sister does sometimes.
“Sure, yeah. Of course.” She follows him out the back door. Rebel, rebel plays a little loud from a tape deck in the center of the yard only adding to her hysteria. Steve and Jonathan are standing on wobbly chairs trying to hang the long string of lights. Nancy and Eddie are laying on their backs, giggling and shouting out what she can already tell are useless instructions.
Will leads her to a pair of chairs where they can see everything. “So we’re not here to help, are we?”
Will shrugs his shoulders, a small smile on his face when Jonathan shrieks at Steve to hold it higher. “Moral support. Plus you sort of looked upset in there.”
The way her entire body tenses hurts a little. Her laugh comes out strangled. “I guess I am, upset.” She admits because Will is the kind of person you tell the truth to. “It’s dumb though.”
“My mom says if you’re feeling it, it’s important.”
She grins. “Your mom is a smart woman. She must be right.”
Will’s fingers tap to the beat on his chair. “She also says talking about it helps.”
Vickie huffs out another laugh. He’s a smart kid. Eddie’s climbing onto the same chair as Steve, one hand on his waist and the other yanking the lights from him, both of them laughing. Reckless, tip toes through her brain. She can’t turn the word into brave. Vickie might not know what’s really happening in Hawkins but she’s been adjacent to this group for long enough to know brave is a simplification.
In the corner of her eye, she can see Will’s gaze fixated on them too. He’s flushed. She overheard a conversation here once that she thinks she understands now.
“And you? Do you have someone to talk to?”
They both keep looking straight ahead. “Yeah, I do. For a while, I thought I was alone. That my having had a funeral already wasn’t even the weirdest thing about me. But I was wrong. I just needed to open up to the people who love me. My brother was the first person to tell me that nothing about me could stop him from loving me. Robin too. She showed me I wasn’t alone.”
“I’m not brave like any of you.” She admits, tugging at her earlobe. Are Kali and Robin still in the kitchen?
“That’s ridiculous. I’m terrified of everything.” His nose is all scrunched up in denial.
“I think you’re smart enough to know being afraid is what makes an action brave.”
He hums lowly. “You’re right. My mom dated this man, Bob. He was afraid a lot too.” Will makes a wet sound that has her reaching for his hand automatically. “He, uh, well anyway you’re right.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “You’re brave too. I can tell and Robin thinks so too.”
Vickie knows the way she instantly turns to look at him must be a tell. The words that tumble out her mouth are even worse. “Robin thinks Kali’s brave.”
Will squeezes her hand in his and, god, what is she thinking talking to this kid like he’s a therapist.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that,” she stands up, suddenly realizing just how out of place she is with these people.
“Wait!” Will’s grip on her wrist is surprisingly strong. “Hey, Robin’s not going to ditch your friendship if that’s what your worried about.”
Vickie sinks back into the chair accepting the wisdom of a fifteen year old. “We both know it’s not our friendship I was worried about.” Will is really not someone you can lie too and that’s what this conversation is right; to say he sees her.
Will nods. Vickie thinks she’s been obvious for longer than she can even understand. The two of them side by side making PBJ’s while Vickie nervously rambled. Why had she been so nervous? Or, all the way back to Sophomore year, watching Robin scribble furiously in her composition notebook, caught on wanting to know what she was writing.
“Robin’s my friend too and her trust in me is important. But she-the first time her and Steve brought you to our family dinner she made this big deal about introducing you. You’re important to her. She doesn’t even know Kali.”
Vickie closes her eyes to the pain of it. It’s everything and nothing.
“Look, I had a,” Will clears his throat. “I really liked one of my friends. Still do, really. But it’s never going to happen. He’s not like that. Anyway, I know what it feels like to hopelessly pine for your friend. Robin and I share notes about it sometimes.”
Vickie opens her eyes. Her chest aches for him, for what Will is revealing. She can see his knees jiggling up and down. “Robin talks to you about hopelessly pining?”
“I’m not sure it’s hopeless in her case.”
“Me either,” she whispers.
“You should probably talk to her when you’re ready.” He grins at her, a little wobbly.
Vickie knocks her foot into his. “Thanks. I get why they call you Will the Wise.”
Across the yard, Jonathan dances with Nancy, holding her close. They finally got the lights draped around the yard. It’s beautiful. Eddie and Steve have disappeared but she can smell the telltale hints of weed in the air so they’re not far. She should go find Robin.
—————-
“Vickie! Vickie!” Someone pounds on the door. Pounds. It is not a sound that means anything short of disaster. Her stomach clenches tight and her heart beats in her temples. The syrup bottle squelches with the grip she has on it.
Opening the door will mean the end. Before her mom opened her mouth that day, sitting on the couch holding both Vickie’s hands in hers, she knew something horrible was hurtling towards her. It is the same now.
She’d recognize Robin’s voice anywhere, even set at the terrifying pitch it’s at now. Abbie is sitting at the kitchen table, mouth full of pancakes. Vickie loves her an impossible amount. Two months ago, caught in a weird conversation she only half understood because she and everyone else were high, Robin said, “Everything is so simple once you know for sure that you would die for the people you love.”
Blood drips from Robin’s arm when she opens the door. It’s the first thing she sees because Robin’s fist is raised to hit the door again. There is too much to take in. Steve at her side, with the bat full of nails she’s seen in his car before, blood dripping from the side of his face where part of his right ear is just a jagged mess. Nancy is down at the street holding a gun like she was born for it, like she might have to use it at any moment on this quiet suburban street at 9am in the morning.
“-hear me?” Robin is shaking her, rough, shocking.
“Sorry?” she hears herself say. In the nightmare, it is July. It’s always July in her nightmares; something dead moves on her floor, her mom says the cancer is back, Robin stands at her door bleeding in July. It’s happening now.
Robin rambles, throws her hands around, she is noise and light. None of that is present here.
“Is Abbie here?” she asks, firm, direct.
“Yeah,” Vickie’s crying. She’s not bleeding but she’s crying. Life is simple once you know.
“Okay. I need you to get the gun out of your dad’s safe. You’re going to leave with Mrs. Wheeler and Nancy’s little sister. Officer Callahan and his wife and son will meet you there. I already called your dad at the hospital. He has the number and address for where you’re going.”
Maybe she has known this was coming since that night before graduation when Robin said with this same firmness, “We’re going to stop it. We’re going to make sure no one else dies. I promise you.”
She nods jerkily, backing into the house. It’s too much to comprehend. Steve makes a signal at Nancy as they follow her in.
“Is everyone else, okay?” she asks when the door shuts.
“Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s okay. Steve and I just got a little trapped but we’re okay,” Robin promises her.
“Always getting almost killed at our minimum wage job,” Steve mumbles behind her.
Vickie nods tightly, scrubs her face clean of tears the way any teenager can do at a moment’s notice, and rounds into the kitchen.
“Abbie? You remember my friends, Robin and Steve.” She stops there unsure what to say about their appearances.
Robin slips past her. “Oh pancakes! Mind if I help myself, Abbie?” she asks brightly.
Vickie is in love with her.
Point blank.
She won’t be coming back from this feeling.
“We’ve got her,” Steve whispers, hand on her arm. She wants to say thank you but he wouldn’t understand everything she was trying to convey in that.
Walking away hurts. The safe combo is her and Ab’s birth dates. She checks the safety, then removes the empty clip and loads it with steady hands just like her dad taught her. She’s just shoved it into the back of her pants when the tornado sirens start.
In the kitchen, Robin and Steve are sitting at the table shoveling pancakes into their mouth. She can’t help but admire their ability to eat right now. Abbie is standing beside Steve with a washcloth carefully cleaning the side of his face of blood. They have both always been children of a doctor.
“What’s the verdict, doc?” he asks her. “Am I gonna live?”
How can he joke?
“You’ll live. You’ll look badass.”
“Language,” all three of them say in unison.
“Robbie and Steve say we’re going on a roadtrip!” Abbie announces, turning towards her. She just lost one of her bottom incisors and the gap tooth smile is ridiculous.
Steve and Robin both jump up, shoulders set. Robin’s got the bat now; her arm’s clean too, a collection of band aids decorating it.
“We sure are.” To Robin, she asks, “The tornado siren?”
“The best thing the Army could think of to warn people without a panic.” Robin sounds like she disapproves.
“Allright, Abbie. Piggyback time,” Steve announces.
Robin goes first with the bat. Steve in the middle with Abbie on his back. Vickie last, gun in hand.
Nancy, at least, appears uninjured. “Hey, Abbie. This is my sister, Holly. I think she’s two years younger than you.”
Steve and Nancy take over getting Abbie settled. Robin wraps a hand around her wrist. It closes, thumb to finger.
“Mrs Wheeler knows where to go. She’s got the phone number to call when you get there. One of us will call when it’s safe again to come back.”
“You won’t call?” Vickie asks instead of what she means.
“I’ll try.” Robin whispers. Vickie knows she won’t promise anything because friends don’t lie.
“Once they’re safe I’ll get a taxi back,” Vickie begs.
Robin squeezes her wrist, hard. She prays it bruises; she feels insane. She knows what this is, knows what it means to want to crawl inside someone.
“No. No, you won’t. You don’t even know what this is. We promised your dad. Abbie needs you. I need you to be safe, to protect all of them if something happens.” It’s all true.
Still. “And I need you.”
Robin shuts her eyes.
It’s easier for Vickie to think without the blue of them looking at her. “I’m sorry. I’m not guilt tripping you. That’s not what I meant. I mean I think I love you.”
Robin lurches into her, clumsy, heart-breakingly like herself again. Her hands land on Vickie’s neck and they’re kissing. It’s over before Vickie can memorize it, before she can sweep her tongue across Robin’s bottom lip.
“I, me too. I think I love you too.” Robin stutters out. “So you have to let me protect you. You’ve got to go now, Vic.”
Vickie thinks it’s all very effective manipulation. She can’t say anything. She’s ushered into the passenger seat with Robin’s jostling and another squeeze on the shoulder from Steve. Nancy humiliatingly winks at her.
Her door shuts and Mrs Wheeler starts driving immediately. She turns in the seat to watch the three teens left standing in the road until the car turns a corner. Mrs Wheeler reaches out and squeezes her knee. “They’ll be okay, Hun.” Mrs Wheeler is driving away from two of her children.
Waiting is impossible. Her dad calls the first night. He’s not coming but promises he’s staying safe in the hospital. He tells her he hasn’t seen any of her friends yet. She passes the phone to Abbie instead of yelling at him for making her promise not to get involved all those months ago. He could already see back before she even really knew them that she’d be willing to risk everything for her friends. The preternatural instinct of a parent.
Mrs Wheeler has it too. Earlier, Vickie had taken three steps towards Callahan’s squad car after he said goodbye to his wife before Mrs. Wheeler’s hand was gripping her upper arm, tight, familiar in the way every mother knows how to when a child is about to do something stupid.
Vickie missed her mom.
She didn’t say anything, she didn't have to. Vickie could hear Callahan’s son crying. He was only two. His pregnant wife, Laura, watched his car disappear around the corner with a blank expression. Mrs. Wheeler let her go only to wrap an arm around Laura. Vickie picked the boy up, perching him on her hip. She’d decided her place time and time again when she chose not to ask Robin the truth; it was too late to change her mind now. She would have to help from here.
Everyone’s asleep now. Vickie swings her legs back and forth through the water. She can see their motel rooms from here and if she twists she can see the road. The gun lays beside her. There’s a weight too it that isn’t physical. She’s mostly positive she could use it if anyone comes for them.
Today, she kissed a girl.
She kissed a girl today and it wasn’t even the biggest part of her day. Robin Buckley coming in with that one-two sucker punch. She tasted like the too sweet syrup.
Vickie’s maybe, probably, irrevocably in love with her. Robin with her feathered bangs and lips quirked up into a permanent smirk. Robin of foreign languages and big dreams and hunger for more. Vickie’s really been stupid.
Her gaze twitches back up to their motel room. Mrs. Wheeler, Karen, is gently shutting the door behind her. Vickie briefly considers tucking the gun back into her waistband but somehow she doubts Karen will be horrified by it. Mr Wheeler is on a business trip, safe and oblivious, otherwise Vickie’s gotten the impression it’d be him here with Holly and Karen would be with Nancy and Mike, protecting them.
She settles beside Vickie moments later with a sigh.
“Do you-do you know what’s happening?” she asks soft, afraid. Vickie wonders how long she’s been holding onto that question.
“No,” she admits guiltily, thinks about promises and risk and recklessness and Robin. Someone made her Dad sign a NDA. “I just know it has to do with the mall fire and the earthquake and a lot of the deaths in Hawkins. And uh, gates. I don’t know they were arguing about gates a couple of weeks ago.” Clenching her hands into the rough stone on the edge of the pool, she whispers, “They seemed scared of them.”
In her periphery, she sees Karen nod, face twisted. “That’s more than I know. I’m pretty sure it has to do with Russians and that old lab that caused poor Barb Holland’s death as crazy as that sounds.” She tugs off her shoes revealing perfectly pink toenails. Beneath the water, their legs look distorted, unreal.
“There was this incident the year we thought Will Byers died. These government agents and people from the lab searched our house. They told me the kids were trying to protect some sort of Russian experiment they took from the lab. Then a day later, someone came and apologized for the mistake and had Ted sign some papers. I assumed so we wouldn’t sue. I didn’t read them. I thought that was the end of it.” She shakes her head derisively. “Mother of the year, right.”
“I’m not sure assuming your children were involved in like normal kid drama and not part of a Russian conspiracy makes you a bad mom.” Vickie offers. She’s glad they can already semi-joke about this. “They wanted to protect you and they were scared you’d want to protect them. For what it’s worth, your kids are pretty badass. They’ll be okay.”
Karen pats her leg. “Thanks for that, Hun. I don’t know where they get it from. I’ve been pretty oblivious. In a lot of ways.” She shakes her head. “I had a bet going with myself about which of you two girls was dating Steve.”
Vickie tenses. Of course, Karen had seen her and Robin. The pure terror of that when Robin is facing a maybe sleeper cell of Russians is so unbelievable.
“Don’t tense up like that.” Karen squeezes her leg. They’re not looking at each other. “I’m not-it’s not a bad thing. How could it be? It’s just love. I’ve had a while to think about it what with Will Byers being my son’s best friend. Not to assume anything about the kid but.”
“Oh.” Surprise washes over her at the simple way Karen says it. Maybe she’s right, maybe it really is that simple. Robin needs to survive first. “Um, thank you.” It sounds stupid but she’s afraid if she says more she won’t be able to stop.
“You don’t have to thank me.” Karen pulls her feet back out of the water and gathers their shoes. “Come on, let’s go back in.”
Vickie follows her and tries not to think about what might be happening in Hawkins at this very moment.
Four days pass.
Every line they call after the first night just says we're sorry you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Vickie plays with the girls and the Callahan kid, tries to keep Laura and Karen distracted. She massages Laura’s shoulders and makes her talk about how they’ll decorate the baby’s room. For Karen, mostly they gossip about the kids. It’s something of a relief to joke about their crushes and little dramas, to imagine them as regular kids. At night she keeps watch with the gun in hand. She doesn’t think she’ll hesitate to shoot it if the time comes.
Mr. Sinclair and Erica, arm splinted, show up on day two. According to them, everyone was still okay when they left. Mrs. Sinclair stayed behind to help in the hospital. The army is in Hawkins. Neither of them will say anything more than that like they can’t bear it.
Two more days pass before they get anything else. Vickie’s dozing fitfully with her sister and Erica when the phone rings.
Everyone lurches up at the noise. The clock reads out 03:55 AM. Karen answers, her face bloodless. “Hello?”
Vickie can hear the tremulous but loud, Mom, Mommy? from her spot on the bed. It tears through Vickie’s chest in a way she already knows won’t ever heal.
It’s Nancy. She’s crying. Vickie has never heard Nancy Wheeler sound anything but completely in control.
Karen has one hand gripping the phone and the other on Holly’s head. Her eyes are shut like it can protect her. Vickie pulls Erica and Abbie into her sides. Erica is trembling. She alone in this room knows what to be afraid of. They move like a three headed monster over to Karen and Holly’s bed so they can hear.
“Nancy, baby. It’s okay. Breathe for me. Are you okay? Is Mike okay?”
“I can’t hear-” Nancy cries. There’s a staticky noise down the line before her voice comes back. “Mom?” Holly starts crying, soft hiccuping noises.
“I’m here, baby.”
“Mike’s hurt. He-He’s going to be okay but he’s hurt, Mom. He was so brave.” She’s loud, gasping sobs between words. Vickie hates herself for the way her brain begs her to ask about Robin. “And mom, mom, Jonathan. He’s gone. Jonathan’s dead.”
Vickie squeezes the girls in her arms and swallows tight against the pain of it. Jonathan. Will Byers grins at her, lights twinkling, laughter all around, and says, “My brother was the first person to tell me that nothing about me could stop him from loving me.” Across the yard, Jonathan dances with Nancy, holding her close. That was days ago.
“Baby. Oh, god. I’m so sorry.” Vickie puts her hand on Karen’s shoulder when she starts shuddering. Joyce Byers stands in her kitchen, placing some of Jonathan’s photos on the fridge with magnets. It’s the first thing she unpacks in the kitchen.
“It’s Jonathan, Mom.”
“I know, Nance. I know. I’m so sorry,” Karen soothes.
Jonathan stands in front of the notice board in the hall, carefully taping up missing posters. Jonathan hugs Robin and Nancy to him. Jonathan giggles from Steve’s living room floor.
“You can, can you come home? It’s over. We finished it. It’s safe now, for good.” Nancy’s voice breaks.
“Of course, of course. We’re on the way. Are you at the hospital? Is everyone else okay?” Vickie tenses at the question, stomach turning.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m with Mike. Everyone’s here. A lot of people are hurt. But Jon’s the only one who-” she stops there. Sick relief floods through Vickie. It’s a terrible thing.
“Okay, baby. We’ll be there as soon as we can. I love you so much. You have no idea how proud I am.”
“I love you too. I’ve got to let someone else have the phone now.”
The dial tone is sudden.
Erica wiggles out from under her arm, murmuring something about her dad and disappears out of the room.
“I’ll drive. Come on. Let’s, let’s go,” Vickie announces, standing up. She feels dizzy.
Karen drags her hands down her face. Vickie has never seen her without make-up before this.
“Yeah, okay. You probably should.” She lifts the still crying Holly into her arms. “My kids are-” Her voice drops out. “Oh god, Joyce.”
Vickie doesn’t know what she could possibly say.
Once they pass the Hawkins sign, they finally get a picture of just what’s happened. There’s chaos, flashing lights, smoke in the air, noise everywhere, people in white jumpsuits, and creatures, dead creatures that are not animals, not human, prehistoric almost.
Everyone is silent in the minivan as Vickie inches through the destroyed streets.
When they finally park illegally at Hawkins Memorial, Karen is shuddering again. There’s people huddled everywhere but it doesn’t take long before they’re spotted. Dustin comes barreling towards them with his mother right behind them. They both look terrible; dirty and bloodied, obvious tear tracks down both their faces.
“Oh Karen,” Claudia gasps, clutching the other woman to her. “Let me take you to the kids. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Dustin grips the hand she doesn’t have linked with Abbie. Her sister hasn’t said a word since they crossed into Hawkins and she needs to address that. “I’m supposed to take you to Robin, Steve, and Eddie. They’re a few rooms down from Mike.”
“They’re okay? You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just lost a finger.” He holds up his other hand and sure enough his hand is wrapped in gauze and there’s a noticeable gap where his pinky should be.
“Dustin!”
“It’s fine, really. I’m lucky. Mike lost part of his arm. Then they realized he was bleeding internally. He lacerated his liver? Just got out of surgery. You’re dad and Mrs. Sinclair are taking care of him.” Dustin inhales shakily. She kind of wants to shake someone. These kids. “And I guess you heard about Jonathan?”
She just nods, tightens her grip on Dustin’s hand. What is there to say?
Dustin just nods too. “Steve’s the only other one in an actual bed. Idiot protected the four of us during an explosion with his fucking back. It’s mostly second degree burns but there’s some third too so they had to admit him. Nancy’s deaf in one ear they think, Robin cracked a few ribs and Eddie broke his arm straight through the skin.”
She jerks them to a stop, gets both her arms around Dustin and holds him to her chest. “Hey, hey. Dustin breathe for me.” She feels Abbie add her arms to the mix and tries not to think about the Byers’ siblings.
A bubbling sob rips out of him but she hears him taking shaky breaths in too. She rubs his back until he stops trembling.
“So,” she starts, after a few long minutes, “Actual monsters?”
Dustin laughs, pulling back from her. “And superpowered kids, an evil faction of our government, and an alternate dimension. You have no idea. We’ll tell you everything now. It’s over. All those years of NDAs and now the whole town knows at least some of it.”
They have to start weaving in and out people in the crowded hallways but Vickie keeps a hold of both Dustin and Abbie’s hands.
The door is shut but she can still hear Robin clear as anything.
Steve is laid out on his stomach, a huge swatch of his back and side a hideous blistering mess. Some of it is black. Eddie is at the top of the bed with Steve’s head in his lap. Dustin beelines straight for them, wiggling himself onto the bed with them. Abbie follows them.
“Ohh,” Steve twitches a little at the sight of her. “Stop the pressss, who is that? Vicky, Vicky Valeeee.” He garbles out, before dissolving into giggles.
“Shh, sweetheart. You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Eddie murmurs. To her, “He’s on some serious pain meds.”
From the corner of the room, Robin adds, “Keeps alternating between laughing and crying. We finally got ahold of his dad.”
Vickie steps into the room fully, shutting the door, eyes seeking out Robin. She’s in the back corner looking like she’s just paused mid-pace, looking like hell, looking like everything Vickie wants. There’s a dark bruise on her temple and she’s holding herself carefully but those are the only visible injuries she can see. Dustin told her but she needed to see herself.
“Robin,” she says on an exhale. Before she can even think, she’s crossing the room, reaching out. “Can I touch you?”
Tears are sliding down Robin’s cheeks. A jerky nod is all Vickie gets. Her hands tremble as she gets them on Robin’s sides, fluttering gently against her taped ribs. Next is the short row of stitches on her forearm, stark against her pale skin. Vickie brushes her thumb lightly down her forearm. Somewhere behind her Dustin is talking to Abbie. Carefully, she cups Robin’s cheeks with both hands, brushing away tears before she skims one hand up along her bruised temple.
“Vickie.” It’s a question, an answer, a plea.
“Please don’t ever ask me to leave you again,” Vickie whispers into her mouth. “I won’t do it.” She does get her tongue on Robin’s bottom lip this time.
—————-
“Come on! Come on, Jesus,” Robin shrieks, tugging her along the cobblestone street.
“No, down here, under the overhang.” Vickie redirects them into a side street, laughing the whole time.
Robin backs her into the side of the building until their both mostly protected from the sudden rain. Robin tilts her face up to the sky, almost howling with laughter. “Did you see that sculpture? What was that?!”
Vickie reaches up, sinking her hands into Robin’s hair. A gentle tug is all it takes to bring Robin’s face back to her. They’re in public, tucked in the alleyway, but still in public. Vickie can’t begin to care anyway when Robin’s cheeks are flushed and there’s a drop of rain clinging to her eyelashes. She laughs, feeling reckless. It’s so large in her chest, this love.
Their lips slide wet against each other. Robin opens her mouth to Vickie immediately with a groan. It’s messy. Not at all like with a boy. Boys have always treated her delicately, politely but Robin squeezes her sides in pulses and takes and takes. Vickie dies for it every time. She slides a hand up under Robin’s shirt, stopping at the delicate ridges of her ribcage. She sweeps her thumb back and forth along the underside of her breast.
“Fuck,” Robin gasps into her mouth. She pulls back, lips swollen, a moment later. “I might die if we keep this up.”
Vickie snorts, tugging Robin back to her by her shirt. She snakes her arms around the other girl, holding her close, breathing her in. “I love you,” she whispers into her shoulder.
“Je t’aime,” Robin replies because she knows Vickie melts at her French.
It’s July again. In a few days, it’ll be a full year since Robin kissed her for the first time. A year then too since they killed Henry and destroyed the Upside Down. Sometimes Vickie wishes that she’d been there with them. She’d never say it out loud because the Callahan’s infant daughter is named Vickie, because Abbie called her every night while she was in Boston, because Robin will always be glad to have spared her the trauma. How can she be upset about that?
Hawkins is still healing even now. But it’s like last year, everyone is pitching in, trying to make it a home again. Over the winter break, her and Robin painted the halls of the rebuilt Hawkins High and helped plant the new community garden. When they fly back in two weeks, there will still be more to do but today, they’re in Antwerp admiring diamonds and feeding each other Belgian chocolates. Steve and Eddie only joined them for two weeks of the nearly three month trip before flying back to the kids.
When fall semester starts, they’ll drive to Boston where Nancy waits for them. Nothing will compare to the magic of this summer together but Vickie’s pretty ecstatic about having Robin in Boston now. The past year was too long without her.
Her and Nancy will show her all of their favorite restaurants, the best study spots on campus, the bar where Nancy kissed the first boy since Jonathan. Maybe they can take a trip to Cape Cod in the fall and invite Steve and Eddie along too. The leaves are more beautiful in New England than Indiana. She likes picturing the five of them on a sailboat in the bay, sun and salt and laughter.