Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nancy is self-aware enough to admit that there’s a not-insignificant part of her that misses the end of the world.

Not all of it, of course. Her friends’ lives at risk; that awful, all-consuming fear that one or all of them was going to get hurt, or worse? She could live without that. She’s glad that El has closed the gate once and for all, of course she is. That Vecna is unequivocally dead, that Max has woken up from her coma and Eddie’s injuries aren’t fatal. That Hopper isn’t dead after all. That Jonathan and the Byers are back in Hawkins.

Obviously, she’s glad.

It’s just. Well.

There’s something about being needed. About the rush of being faced with a problem that only she can solve. Of being relied upon—for her brains, for her curiosity, for her inability to ever leave anything alone. For her stubbornness. Her ruthlessness. 

That those parts of Nancy's personality which picked and pulled at both of her relationships until they imploded under their own weight were the parts which got them all through Spring Break alive.

Nancy is self-aware enough to admit that maybe she’s at her best when the world is ending.

It’s the aftermath which is proving more difficult.

Nancy knocks on the door to the Munson’s new trailer with no small sense of trepidation. She still isn’t quite sure why she’s here.

That’s a lie. She’s here because it’s been a week since school reopened and she is already going out of her mind with how normal everything feels. With how quickly everyone has returned to the status quo; like the earthquake never happened, like their town wasn’t torn up from the inside and spat back out as the devil’s leftovers.

With each passing day she sits in the canteen alone wanting to scream with frustration at everyone else’s ability to just… move on.

Jonathan is ignoring her—wants space, he says. There have been lots of arguments since he's moved back. Their final one led to him confessing that he doesn’t want the life she’s mapped out for them and that, if she was honest with herself, she’d realise that she doesn’t want it either. Nancy sat there silently in response, feeling nothing but relief so sharp it hurt. Which said it all, really—or, according to Jonathan it did, anyway.

Robin watches her when she thinks Nancy isn’t looking, but every time they catch eyes across the canteen she immediately looks away. She eats with her band friends, is attached at the hip to a red-haired girl who plays the clarinet, and she hasn’t once approached Nancy to ask if she wants to join them. It should probably be concerning to Nancy that her stomach tightens more when Robin drops her gaze than it does when Jonathan brushes past her in the corridor. It mostly just feels lonely.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because for all that Nancy thought she was making a new friend—a girl friend, a close friend, a connection she hasn’t felt since Barb died—at the end of the day Robin’s loyalty will always be to Steve. 

And Steve. Nancy doesn’t know what to do with Steve. She knows they should talk about, well, everything, but whenever she thinks about dropping by Family Video she is overcome with that same sense of wrong that she’d felt in the Upside Down at Steve’s confessed fantasy for his future. That’s not her. She might not know much about what she wants now that she doesn’t have to live her life on red-alert, but that much she does know. She doesn’t want to think about Steve right now, doesn’t want to think about his big eyes and his big heart and the way she’d acted around him during Spring Break. Not just yet.

So. Eddie Munson it is.

It’s a bitterly cold day for April, one of those days where the sky is bright but the sun hasn't yet got the memo, and Eddie’s door stays closed long enough that Nancy almost chickens out and retreats. There’s no van in the driveway and she can’t hear any noise from inside the trailer either. She raises a fist to knock one last time, school bag heavy on her shoulder, when the door opens with a stiff jerk to Eddie himself leaning heavily against the doorframe as a clear means of support, one hand wrapped around his side. Nancy winces—of course the lack of van meant Eddie’s uncle was out, of course Eddie wasn’t well enough to drive it himself yet. Shoddy detective work there.

“Sorry,” she blurts out, “I didn’t mean to make you get up.”

Eddie isn’t back at school yet, although she doesn’t know whether that’s by choice or under doctor’s orders. His usual table looks incomplete without him jumping around with his usual theatrics; a sense of ease that she isn’t sure he’s ever going to get back. He’s pale, and drawn, and has that same air of fragility that he’d carried with him for the whole of that horrible week in March. Even so, she feels herself smiling involuntarily at the sight of him, alive despite it all.

“Wheeler?” Eddie is clearly baffled at her presence, which she doesn’t blame him for. She hasn’t seen him since he was discharged from the hospital, with all charges dropped courtesy of Hopper and a relocation for him and his uncle courtesy of Dr. Owens. She’d heard that they’d been offered an apartment nearer to town, but that both had refused to leave Forest Hills. Their new home was still within sight of the Mayfields’, even, which Nancy suspects was intentional.

“Sorry I haven’t come by before now,” she says, sincerely. “I should have done, but I was caught up by the—” she waves a hand to encompass earthquake emergency effort/breaking up with my boyfriend/having an identity crisis all in one.

“Sure, yeah, of course,” Eddie's nod feels automatic, like he understands. There’s a pause. “Um. Sorry, I just. Is this a social visit, or did you want anything particular?”

“Why, are you busy?” Nancy asks.

Eddie snorts. “Oh, yeah, I'm out every night at the moment. You know, between the murder charges and the stitches that tear every time I move too fast my diary's packed to the brim."

Nancy laughs, a small sound, and holds up her bag packed full with books, folders, and bindings. “Well. In that case, let me in. I’m here to study,” she says, trying to phrase it confidently rather than the cautious question it feels like.

Eddie blinks at her at that, his face unreadable. He's quiet for long enough that Nancy feels her smile start to turn rigid and she's about to backtrack when Eddie snorts, loudly, pushing a hand over his face and through his hair, matted and just as wild as it was when he was on the run. He mutters something under his breath which Nancy doesn’t catch but sounds a whole lot like it included ‘Harrington’—which, okay, she’s clearly more tired than she thought. 

Then he looks at her, and his face breaks into a smile. Nancy can't remember seeing him smile, before; it really does transform his whole face.

“Of course you are. Well, you better come in then,” he says, and pushes himself away from the door without another word. Nancy follows him inside tentatively—his new home has an identical layout to his old one, minus the portal to hell in the living room ceiling, of course. It feels a lot emptier though; bare walls, less furniture, no cluttering or knick-knacks strewn around. 

Eddie catches her expression. “There wasn’t much left to salvage,” he shrugs, and Nancy feels awful for not thinking earlier that of course the gate opening would have destroyed most of his belongings. “It’s fine,” he says; a clear I don’t want to talk about it.

Now that she’s here she isn’t quite sure what to do with herself, so she sits gently down on the couch while Eddie hobbles over to the kitchen. She thinks she should ask if he needs help but doesn’t think he would be receptive. “You want coffee?” Eddie calls over his shoulder, opening cupboards and wrinkling his nose at whatever he finds. “Or, uh. I got beer?”

“Water would be great, thanks,” Nancy says, and winces at how prim she must sound, but Eddie just nods and fetches them both a glass. He hovers over her, then, twitchy, hands twisting together, before Nancy rolls her eyes and orders, “sit.” 

Eddie sits down promptly.

It's awkward, and she knows it. They haven’t spent any time one on one before, naturally splitting into Nancy-and-Robin and Steve-and-Eddie when they were trapped in the Upside Down, and then he seemed to gravitate towards the kids while they were preparing to fight Vecna. She knows he’s brave, though, much braver than he thinks he is, and resourceful, too, which is enough to think that they have more in common than she ever would have thought before. She suspects that everything she thought she knew about Eddie Munson prior to March was carefully crafted that way by Eddie himself, a persona to put on in front of his peers to keep himself at a distance from their ridicule and expectations. Nancy thinks she can relate to that.

“I gotta say, Wheeler, I don’t what about me is screaming study buddy, but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick if you think there’s anything I’ll be able to help you with when it comes to school and shit,” Eddie says, breaking her out of her head. He’s sitting with one leg on the couch and the other hanging off the side, facing her, and his hand taps restlessly against his knee as he talks. She wonders if it’s a nervous tick, or if that’s just the way he is. “You’re talking to the double repeater, remember?”

Nancy snorts at that, her own hands twisting together in what absolutely is a nervous tick—Eddie doesn’t need to know that though. “I know that. I’m not here for help. I’m here—” she pauses abruptly, trying to figure out how best to articulate her thoughts, but before she can speak again Eddie’s shoulders tense.

“Oh, I see. You’re here to help me, is that it? Pull the sad sack who can’t graduate over the line?” He makes a noise, a half-laugh which doesn’t sound like a laugh at all, his eyes hovering somewhere over her shoulder. “I thought—are you here to win points with Harrington, then? Well, thanks for the offer, sweetheart, but I don’t actually need either of your charity—”

“Stop it,” Nancy says firmly. “I’m not here for charity, so quit the pity party.” Eddie blinks at that, surprised. “And what does this have to do with Steve? I—we aren’t really talking.”

Eddie hums at that, his brow still furrowed. She feels like he’s assessing her, but she’s not sure on what grounds. And she’s thrown off by the mention of Steve, if she’s being honest. She just—doesn’t want to think about him right now. Surely that isn’t too much to ask? 

“So if it isn’t pity, then what is it?” Eddie says.  

Nancy sighs heavily. “Honestly, I just want the company. Studying’s easier when you’re not on your own and I’m—thin on options, at the moment.”

Eddie hums again. “Break up with the boyfriend, then, did you?”

Nancy’s throat tightens. “Not that it’s any of your business, but if you must know, then yes. Or, well. I think he broke up with me, in the end.”

“Hey, you’re the one who turned up at my door unannounced, I think that entitles me to ask a few questions,” Eddie says, hands in the air. “Not surprised to hear that, though, not gonna lie.”

“Why’s that?” Nancy can feel herself getting indignant.

“Oh, please, you were all over Harrington in the Upside Down.” Eddie waggles his eyebrows comically and, annoyingly, she feels her cheeks warm.

“I was not.”

“Look, no judgement here, that guy is a stud,” Eddie says, and Nancy snorts, helplessly, dropping her face into her hands in embarrassment. When she looks back up Eddie has brought both knees to his chest, before wincing and pushing them back down. He hasn’t stopped fidgeting the entire time they’ve been talking, and it can’t be doing his injuries any good.

“Stop it,” Nancy says, still blushing.

 “If I were a lady I’d be all over him too,” he says, eyes wide. It's all theatrics, but it makes her laugh—which, she assumes, was the point.

"Stop it. That’s over now, anyway,” she says firmly, and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up at that, legs finally stilling.

“Does Harrington know that?”

Nancy sighs. “I think so. He will. And besides, I didn’t come here to talk about Steve.”

Eddie has an odd look on his face, now, one that Nancy can’t interpret at all. But in a flash it's gone and he's chuckling to himself, his focus back on Nancy with a shake of his head.

“So what I’m hearing,” he says, “is that you’re short on pals who aren’t exes at the moment, and I’m your last resort. What happened to Buckley?”

Nancy feels herself twitch. “You aren’t a last resort. And with Robin, it’s—complicated. I don’t know. She’s avoiding me in school, so.” She trails off, uncomfortable.

Eddie looks at her with something akin to pity, and she hates that, so she barrels on. “Look, you’re right. Maybe I’m—at a loose end. Robin and Steve, they have each other. And Jonathan has Will. And I know I have Mike, but we aren’t close like that—he’s more likely to go to you than me, and.” She shrugs. “You haven’t come back to school. I like to study and you still need to graduate. It isn’t charity, it’s—mutual satisfaction.”

“Mutual satisfaction?” Eddie looks amused rather than offended this time, but he’s staring at her a lot more inquisitively than he was before. “I dunno, still sounds like you’d be getting the short end of the stick. Not sure if you’ve heard, but I don’t study well.”

Nancy shrugs again. “I want to, honestly. I just—I like feeling useful,” she says, and suddenly finds it difficult to meet Eddie’s eyes.

There’s a short silence, and Nancy can feel Eddie’s gaze on her but focuses instead on the worn material of the couch, threadbare and scratchy to the touch. She fiddles with a loose thread, rolling it between her fingers and debating whether or not to just get up and leave. That felt—more honest than she had been intending. Too honest. 

Into the silence one of Eddie’s hands briefly comes to rest over both of hers, and he squeezes them gently but firmly, just once. She looks up, and Eddie’s eyebrows are furrowed but his eyes are warm, filled with something that looks a lot like understanding. He retreats immediately as they make eye contact, as if he isn’t sure his touch would be welcomed. And, well. With Jonathan or Steve, or any other guy, really, Nancy would assume it was the beginning of a come-on, and she definitely doesn’t want that. Not just not with Eddie, but not with anyone. She hasn’t had that feeling at all from Eddie so far, though. In fact, she suspects he might have been carrying a torch for Chrissy Cunningham, and she can’t imagine what that must be like for him to process on top of everything else.

Instinctively, she reaches over and squeezes one of his hands back. When she pulls back quickly there’s a small smile on his face, and it warms her stomach to see.

Eddie claps his hands together, then, suddenly and loudly, breaking the calm of the moment. “Okay, so. I have deliberated, and here’s my deal. I’ll be your study buddy, padawan to your Master, halfling to your Wizard, take your pick. But! For every study session you also have to jailbreak me out of here, okay? One for one.”

Nancy opens her mouth to interject, but Eddie keeps going, any seriousness lost to a fountain of dramatics. “Wheeler, please, I am bored senseless. I have been stuck on my ass for weeks waiting for these stitches to heal. Between Wayne and Henderson I am being watched like a hawk, and don’t get me wrong, I love them for it, but I cannot take much more sitting around waiting for—for a bunch of freshmen to decide to grace me with their company.” Nancy feels herself smiling unconsciously, as Eddie clasps his hands over his chest like he’s begging. “I’m going mad. I’m dying. Help me, Nancy Wheeler, you’re my only hope.”

Nancy groans at that and shoves his hands away, rolling her eyes and giggling as he sticks his tongue out at her in response. He’s terrible, but funny. She hadn’t expected him to be able to make her laugh. 

“Is your uncle going to hate me if I jailbreak you?” she says, still giggling. “I wouldn’t want that. Has he told you we’ve met before?”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard all about the great Nancy Wheeler, the only journalist to give him the time of day while I was MIA,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but she can tell it’s fond. “I tell him I’m with you and I’m sorted. Don’t know if you know this, Wheeler, but you’ve got a reputation for being quite the goody two shoes.”

Nancy pulls a face, but Eddie’s already carrying on. “Shame he doesn’t know that’s all bullshit, right?” He wiggles his eyebrows again, and she can’t help but smile, something about his energy completely infectious. 

“I may live to regret this, but, why not. You’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, and Eddie punches the air in mock victory. It feels like they’re agreeing to more than just a study schedule. “We’re studying first, though, okay? Right now. I’ve brought supplies, and you have a dozen tests overdue that I bet I can wrangle with the school. Perks of being a goody two shoes,” and fuck it—she winks at him.

Eddie looks delighted—more at the wink than the prospect of a test, she’s sure, but he still shoves himself backwards into the corner of the couch to make room for the folders Nancy is pulling out of her bag. He fans a hand over his face, and says, “teach me your wisdom, oh fair maiden.”

“Already regretting this,” Nancy says dryly, but they smile as they meet eyes and Nancy feels her stomach settle, more content than she’s been in a long time.

And so begins the strangest friendship since Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley started working at Scoops Ahoy together.

Over the next fortnight Nancy finds herself at the Munson’s no less than five times. It becomes a new routine; if she isn’t staying late after class to work on the school paper then she drives over to Forest Hills, a different selection of papers and subject books in her bag each time. It’s nice, having someone to spend one-on-one time with. Nancy has always been better one-on-one than in a group, and she’s realising that this is what she missed most about Jonathan while he was in Lenora—the act of having company, of someone else existing in the same space as her.

The second time she’s round she passes Wayne leaving the trailer on route to work. He nods at her as he leaves and tips an imaginary hat while Eddie fake gags in the background, and Nancy blushes with delight.

Eddie is… not what she expected.

Honestly, when Mike first told her that he’d failed senior year not once but twice, she’d assumed that meant he was stupid. Even Steve had managed to graduate first time, after all, and he isn’t winning any awards for most academically gifted anytime soon.

After their first couple of study sessions though, Nancy realises that Eddie is actually, well, smart.

“What do you mean you already know this?” Nancy says, frustrated. “It’s complex quadratics, we’ve only just studied this in class!”

“Eh,” Eddie shrugs, “maths has never been my issue. Besides, you kind of need a basic understanding for D&D, you know?”

His “issue”, as Nancy discovers, isn’t so much an inability to learn, but rather an unwillingness. He has the worst attention span ever. They’ll barely have been working for ten minutes before he’s distracting her, changing the subject, going off on rambling tangents to try and make her laugh, and sometimes, resorting to throwing things at her. He’s the worst study partner she’s ever had. And she’s enjoying the process more than she ever has before.

Well—sometimes, anyway.

“But you like reading,” she bursts out during their third study session, after Eddie confesses that he simply hasn’t read the assigned reading that they’ve been working through since the start of the year. “You’ve read The Lord of the Rings books five times, Eddie, which is insane, by the way. I couldn’t get through the first one. You have the appendices memorised. I just don’t get it.”

“The thing about me, Wheeler,” Eddie says, from his position sprawled across his bed, head hanging over the edge so that he’s looking at Nancy upside down as she sits on the floor, books strewn across his bedroom, “is that as soon as you tell me I have to do something my desire to do it instantly disappears. Poof. Gone. Reading for fun’s different, it’s not work.”

“But that’s…. so stupid,” says Nancy.

“Never said it wasn’t, darling,” Eddie winks. That’s another thing she’s getting used to—the constant pet names. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard him call her “Nancy” once, and she rolls her eyes every time, but can’t say it actually bothers her. 

“But, Eddie, seriously, how are you going to pass this class if you haven’t even read the book,” she says, a little desperately.

Eddie shrugs, “I was thinking I’d just cram it the night before or something. I’m a quick reader—kind of have to be, have you seen the size of the new Player’s Handbook?” Nancy drops her head into her hands and can hear him hoot with laughter in the background.

“I don’t know how you live your life,” Nancy says seriously, and Eddie sits up at that, scooting to the corner of the bed until he’s cross legged, facing her.

“Wheeler, look,” he says, and his voice sounds more serious now, so Nancy drops her pen and straightens up too, “you care about all of this stuff. You’re good at it, but more importantly you like it. You’re gonna smash finals and graduate valedictorian and go off to Emerson and put the rest of us to shame.” Nancy winces, because the thought of going to college alone has been sitting uncomfortably in her stomach since Spring Break.

“And you—don’t, like it?” she finishes.

“Exactly,” Eddie clicks his fingers. “And I’m not saying that to be patronising. I think it’s, like, crazy impressive and cool how much you care about this shit. You’re gonna change the world, Wheeler. It’s metal as fuck.” Nancy huffs a small laugh at that. “I’m just not like that. I want to plan my campaigns and play my guitar and eventually get the hell out of this town and, like, do something with that. Play music for people. Play my music for people. Somewhere where I won’t get booed off stage for summoning the devil, preferably. School’s a box to tick for me, that’s it.”

“Then why haven’t you left already?” Nancy says, and Eddie’s hands still.

“What do you mean?”

“Like you said, you don’t need a high school diploma to play in a band. Why didn’t you leave after the first time you failed? Why haven’t you left now?” she presses.

Eddie narrows his eyes at her, and she can see him chewing on his cheek. 

Finally, he says, quietly, “I’m not a quitter. And I want—to prove I can do it. To everyone who says I can’t.”

“Right, then,” Nancy says brightly, clapping her hands together. “We have that in common. So let’s make it happen—here’s everything you need to know about The Great Gatsby and the unattainability of the American Dream.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he joins her on the floor and this time, he doesn’t interrupt her once. She’s counting it as a win.

Robin still won’t meet Nancy’s eyes across the canteen, and it’s starting to really bother her.

It’s just—okay, so, Nancy will admit that she didn’t like Robin when she first met her. She’s chaotic and loud, she talks so much, and they’re nothing alike. And Nancy just didn’t believe at first that there was nothing between her and Steve. Her head was all over the place during Spring Break, and she can recognise now that she was jealous.

But she was wrong. Robin is—Robin is great. She’s so unexpectedly smart, like, she really saved their asses during their visit to Pennhurst, and it was Robin who figured out that music was the key to saving Max. She cares about her friends so much, went out of her way to be friendly to Nancy just because she thought it would make Steve happy. She’s loyal. 

She’s also just—fun. Nancy had fun talking with Robin, even when they were stuck in the Upside Down and everything was awful. Robin has a way of making everything feel lighter. She’s like Eddie, in that way, now that Nancy is thinking about it.

And Nancy misses that.

On Friday, the week after Nancy inserts herself into Eddie Munson’s life, Nancy spots Robin at her locker, alone for once, without her red-haired friend hovering over her shoulder. She seizes the opportunity.

“Robin!” Nancy calls as she approaches, trying to school her voice into something normal and not overly enthusiastic. Judging by the wide-eyed expression on Robin’s face, she’s unsuccessful.

“Oh, hey! Nance!” Robin says, her voice loud and, weirdly, panicked. “Fancy seeing you here! In this school… that we both attend. Wow! So! How—how’s it hanging?”

“How’s it hanging?” Nancy repeats, and Robin winces, scrunching up her face with one eye closed. It’s strangely endearing.

“Yeah, that wasn’t my best, was it?”

“Not really,” Nancy says, but she’s smiling, and Robin smiles back, small, but there. There’s a short silence, before Nancy asks, quietly, “so, how’ve you been? After everything?”

Robin glances around, to confirm they’re alone, and then shrugs, softly, “oh, you know. Getting by. Just glad it’s all finally over. Trying to move past it all, right?”

Nancy frowns. She doesn’t understand how it’s that easy—she doesn’t want to move past it all, to pretend like they didn’t almost die together, no big deal.

“How’ve you been, Nance?” Robin asks, and Nancy shrugs, frustrated. She wants to talk about it, talk about what they’ve been through, to ask Robin if she’s also having nightmares about vines around her neck and Vecna in her head, but it doesn’t seem like Robin wants that. And she can’t go to Jonathan or Steve, and her thing with Eddie feels too new to risk testing, and she feels like she’s slowly going mad. That’s what she wants to say, anyway.

“Yeah, like you said. Moving on,” Nancy says tightly. She sees Robin’s band friend over her shoulder and excuses herself, walking away quickly and ignoring Robin calling after her. If she sounds concerned then that’s Robin’s problem, not Nancy’s.

“I just don’t get it,” she says to Eddie that evening. They aren’t studying this time; instead, Eddie has driven her out to a spot near Lovers Lake and they’re sitting on the hood of his van. She’d offered to drive them to a diner, but Eddie is still hesitant to go out in public. The lake is still, portal closed for good this time, no hint of the horrific violence committed across its waters.

It should feel weird to be back here, but it doesn’t, not to her, anyway. Look, Nancy wants to say. Here’s a piece of the puzzle that led to us saving the world.

“I kind of get it,” Eddie says, staring at the lake’s surface. He’s just lit up, hands clasped over his cigarette in the cold air, and Nancy shakes her head when he raises his eyebrows at her. He shrugs, and pockets the rest of the pack. “I’m not ever gonna be able to look at this lake without picturing Patrick dying, you know?”

“Oh, shit, Eddie,” Nancy winces. She can’t believe she hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it was my idea,” he answers. “And there’s, like, something cathartic about coming back, making a new memory out of it. I just meant—we’re all gonna have our things, you know? I don’t know all of your things, and you don’t know all of mine. And you don’t know Buckley’s either.”

Nancy waits for him to take a long drag before he continues. “People process things in their own way, Wheeler. You can’t control that.”

“I know,” she says, and it comes out snappy. “I know that. I don’t want to get in the way of her processing. I just. I guess I just want her process to involve me. I want her to talk to me. Or, to know she’s talking to someone, at least.”

But even as she says it, she snorts. Robin already has someone to talk to; she has Steve.

Eddie glances at her sideways, like he knows that she’s thinking. “This would be a lot easier if you just figured out what you want from him, you know. They’re a package deal—best way to win over Buckley is to stop avoiding Harrington.”

“He’s avoiding me too,” Nancy says, even though she doesn’t know if that’s true.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Last I checked, he was the one who confessed he wanted a gaggle of Harringtons and an RV with you, and you were the one with the boyfriend who knows where he works but haven’t dropped by once.”

“Okay, that’s a little unfair—” Nancy begins, before stopping. “Wait. I didn’t tell you about that.”

Eddie coughs suddenly, and Nancy swears his cheeks redden.

“We talk sometimes, me and Harrington. He’s swung by a couple times. Might have mentioned it.”

“Oh.” Nancy says. She’s not sure why that makes her feel weird, that Eddie and Steve hang out. It’s just—she wanted Eddie to be her friend. Steve already has Robin, and Nancy kind of wanted someone to herself. She knows that’s unfair even as she thinks it, but she can’t help the way her chest tightens anyway.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, and wraps an arm around her as if he can tell what she’s thinking. Maybe he can. He pulls her towards him, and whispers, “you can’t control everything,” in her ear. Which, okay, she knows that, but wouldn’t everything be easier if she could?

“Besides,” Eddie says, louder this time, “Far as I’m concerned, Harrington hasn’t let me make a character card for him yet, so you’re my favourite, hands down.”

Nancy laughs and shoves him away. Dungeons & Dragons had always sounded so childish when Mike described it, all fighting monsters and dragons and whatever orcs were, but she hadn’t realised there was so much story involved. Listening to Eddie talk about the new campaign he’s planning for the kids has been unexpectedly gripping. There’s so much planning, and creativity, and yeah, okay, some maths too, and Nancy can see why it eats into his school work. That dedication is something she can get behind, though. He’s made her a character; a high-elf who’s a secretly member of a hidden guild searching for the true meaning of life, valuing the quest for knowledge above all else. She’s probably not going to actually join the campaign, but—she’ll admit it was fun.

“We’re friends, right?” she says to Eddie a while later, into the comfortable silence.

Eddie barks out a laugh, and then stops suddenly at whatever he sees in her expression.

“Oh,” he says, and his cheeks colour again. He blinks a few times, and then smiles, almost shyly. “I mean, yeah. Course. We’re friends, Nance.”

Nancy feels her cheeks warm with pleasure, and she nods decisively. “Good. I’m really glad.”

She nudges his shoulder briefly before settling back against the hood. She’s going to talk to Robin again, properly talk. They’re going to end up friends, too; she can feel it in her bones. But, for now, she has Eddie, and this right here? This is more than enough.

Chapter Text

Eddie hasn’t made any mention of returning to school since he and Nancy started studying together, so when she walks into the canteen the following Monday to his wild mop sitting at the head of his usual table with the rest of the Hellfire gang, it feels for a second as though Spring Break never happened. Nancy has to stop herself from glancing over at the sports table to double check that Chrissy, Jason, and Patrick haven’t returned from the dead too; order restored in the jester’s court. She’ll admit she’s thrown for a loop.

She’s clearly not the only one.

As she grabs a tray and joins the hot food queue she can sense mutterings around her, too quiet to pick out individual words but sentiment clear. The two girls in front of her—juniors, Nancy thinks—nudge each other and whisper into their hands, and Nancy follows their gaze to see Eddie gesticulating wildly as he tells a story, Mike and the kids clutching at their sides as they laugh along. Max won’t be well enough to return to school for a while, and El isn’t there either—laying low with Hopper for the time being—but Will is tucked between Mike and Lucas looking at Eddie with evident stars in his eyes. Dustin is smiling so widely it looks almost painful, and it warms Nancy’s chest to see them looking so normal.

“Is there a problem?’ she says loudly, and the girls in front of her jump and give her startled looks before grabbing their food in silence and hurrying away. Good.

Once Nancy has filled her tray, she isn’t sure what to do. She’s clearly not part of the Hellfire Club, but the thought of eating alone while Eddie is right across the hall makes her breath catch in her throat. But, then again, Eddie hadn’t told her he was coming back to school. Surely he would have if he’d wanted them to eat together?

“Wheeler!” 

Before she can take a step in either direction his voice cuts across the hall, and she looks over to find that Eddie has jumped to his feet, waving enthusiastically in her direction. The chatter of the hall dies down and Nancy can feel the weight of hundreds of eyes turning to her. The whispers increase. This is why Nancy likes to be involved in plans, to avoid situations like this and the unnecessary uncertainty that comes with it. As she watches, Eddie bows with a grand sweep of his arm; a clear “come hither” gesture.

As he straightens up though Nancy can see the suppressed unease in his expression that lurks behind the theatrics, and her heart clenches. She straightens her back and crosses the hall with a confidence she doesn’t necessarily feel, keeping her head high and ignoring the whispers as she passes. She pulls a chair up to sit in between Eddie and one of his band friends whose name she doesn’t know, and he nods at her gratefully.

“I didn’t know you were still hanging out with my sister,” Mike says, disdain dripping from every syllable.

“Shut it, Mike,” Nancy snaps, rolling her eyes, and they exchange grotesque faces across the table until Eddie cuts in with a “hey!”

All eyes switch to Eddie, who folds his arms, looking at Mike sternly.

“None of that, Baby Wheeler,” Eddie says, and Nancy snorts internally at the truly offended face Mike pulls at his demotion in nickname. “First of all, your sister is like, the most hardcore chick I know—”

“More hardcore than El— ” Mike interrupts, at the same time that Lucas chimes in: “um, what about Max?”

“Alright!” Eddie cuts them off. His band friends stare in bemusement. “Okay, caveat accepted, one of the most hardcore chicks that we at this table collectively know. B of all, I wouldn’t even be back here if it wasn’t for her.” He cuts a smile in her direction, catching her eye. “Spoke to the front office, Wheeler, and I’m all on track. Papers handed in. S’long as I pass the finals then we’re graduating, baby!”

“I knew it!” Nancy says, wide grin matching Eddie’s as the boys exclaim from across the table.

“Anyway, Wheeler, this is Gareth, Jeff, and Jim,” Eddie says, and Nancy returns their suspicious glances with a polite smile. “Welcome to Hellfire Club!”

“Alright, wind it in,” Nancy rolls her eyes, and hears Mike in the background muttering to Will, “she is not joining the party.”

Discussion moves on, and Nancy leans closer to Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were coming back to school?” she phrases it as a question and tries to keep her voice neutral. The look Eddie gives her, however, suggests he knows what she’s thinking.

“What can I say, sometimes I wake up and make impulsive decisions,” he shrugs, and then nudges her when she doesn’t relax. “I only decided this morning, promise. I just felt—ready, I guess. Mostly thanks to you, you know, but don’t let it go to your head.” 

“I’m glad,” Nancy says, and she does mean it, it’s just—

“I know, I know,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “you wanted to make a battle plan. I’m kind of hoping this doesn’t have to be a battle, though, Wheeler.”

And—well. That’s a fair point.

They’re interrupted by a loud squeal from across the hall, and Nancy turns her head to see Robin flying towards them. Eddie’s half raised out of his seat to meet her and she jumps into his arms, clinging to him tightly. Eddie’s face is bemused over her shoulder, but he wraps his arms around her waist tentatively. 

“You fucker,” Robin says, as she jumps down. “It’s so good to see you, Jesus Christ.”

Nancy stares at them, something hot and coiled twisting in her stomach. She gets it—Eddie nearly died, everything they did over Spring Break was to save him and Max, but. Why couldn’t she get a reaction like that?

They’re drawing even more eyes at this point; she doubts the Hellfire Club has ever looked this popular.

Robin realises that Nancy is also present at the table at the same time that her red-haired band friend joins them.

“Oh, Nance!” Robin says, her voice suddenly pitched high. “I didn’t see you there!”

“Clearly,” Nancy replies flatly, and Robin winces.

“So!” Eddie says, spreading his hands and shooting a glance at Nancy too quick for her to interpret. “Are you ladies joining us?”

“Sure!” Robin says quickly, and then immediately looks panicked at her answer. She glances at her friend, who smiles encouragingly, and they pull up two more chairs, the kids grumbling as they shuffle further down the table. Jeff-or-Gareth throws up his hands in annoyance, but Eddie ignores him.

“This is Vickie,” Robin says, gesturing at her friend, and she’s looking at Eddie but Nancy sticks her hand out anyway.

“Nancy Wheeler,” she says, shaking Vickie’s hand firmly, who glances back at Robin with a wide-eyed look on her face.

“I’d introduce myself but I’m pretty sure you’ve already heard of me, darling,” Eddie says with a wink, and Nancy goes to fake-gag but Robin beats her to it. They catch each other’s eyes and Nancy presses her lips together, suppressing a smile. 

Eddie has drawn Vickie into conversation—and is Nancy imagining it or does she look a little uncomfortable?—and Robin turns her body to face Nancy.

“I really didn’t mean to blank you, before,” she says, sincerely. “I was just—so excited to see Eddie up and about. Doesn’t he look great? I think he looks great!” She laughs, slightly manically,  and it trails off into silence.

“He’s looking much better,” Nancy agrees. This is awkward. Why is this so awkward?

“Look, Robin—” she starts, determined to clear whatever weird air this is, but Robin cuts her off.

“No, Nance, I—um,” Robin, stops, and lowers her voice, glancing at Vickie and Eddie. “I need to apologise to you. I, just, this whole situation, I’m finding it really difficult to navigate?” Robin talks with her hands a lot, and Nancy finds herself watching them move as Robin’s voice increases in pitch. “And I guess I didn’t know how I was supposed to behave? Like, woo!, we saved the world together, and now we’re back at school, and it’s not like we ever hung out before, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t, you know, like me, back then?” Nancy winces. “And I have my friends, and, and Vickie, and I know things are weird right now with you and Steve, and I just didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you or not. But then. I saw you were sitting alone, and I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone or if I should say something, and I feel like I fucked up, I feel really bad! It’s just,” she sighs heavily—another small glance at Eddie and Vickie. “Things are just complicated.”

“Hey,” Nancy says, trying to make her voice as gentle as possible. Honestly, she isn’t sure she understood half of what Robin just said, but she’s clearly upset, and she apologised, and it—sounds like she does want to talk to Nancy? She thinks? But most importantly, Robin is upset, and every atom in Nancy’s body is screaming in protest at that. “It’s okay. I mean, I didn’t love eating alone, but I have Eddie now. And—you do, too? I mean. You should join us, too. Not just today, I mean.”

Well, that was eloquent. Nancy’s face feels hot as she trails off. Robin is staring at her with wide eyes.

“I’m speaking for the party, I know,” Nancy says, trying to joke. “But. Honestly, I’ve missed you, these past few weeks. We were a pretty good team, right, you and me?”

Robin’s laugh almost sounds pained, but at least she’s smiling again. “We were a great team. And I missed you too, Nance. I’ll talk to Vickie about lunch—maybe we can alternate meals with the rest of band or something?”

Oh. Well, that’s fine. Nancy hadn’t realised Robin and Vickie were quite the package deal, but. Another potential friend, she guesses. It’s not like she’s in a position to be picky.

“Great!” Nancy says, her best smile on her face, and Robin seems to finally relax. They talk for the rest of lunch hour about nothing in particular, Gareth-or-Jeff occasionally chiming in and Eddie interrupting the whole table no less than three times to recount a story. It isn’t quite the conversation Nancy wants to have, but it sure as hell beats eating alone.

They rise with the bell, and Robin catches Nancy’s upper arm briefly as she follows Vickie out of the hall. “Later, Nance?” she says, and Nancy waves in return.

She assumes the complicated situation Robin mentioned before has something to do with Steve, and okay. Maybe she does need to just bite the bullet and talk to him. Her problem is she doesn’t know what she wants to say. How does she reconcile the crush she thought she was re-developing with the panic she felt when she realised that crush was returned? How does she reconcile the fondness she feels when she thinks of Steve looking after the kids with the horror she feels at the thought of her and Steve having kids?

Nancy doesn’t know, but she knows she needs to figure it out sooner rather than later.

She looks around to realise the kids have trailed out, leaving only Eddie behind. He’s looking at her shrewdly.

“What?” she says, and he shrugs one shoulder.

“Oh, nothing. You and Buckley were looking cosy there?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, voice soft, before coughing. “I mean. She’s talking to me again, at least. So that’s a step in the right direction!”

Eddie hums, and for some reason, Nancy feels her face warm.

“Anyway,” she says, changing the subject. “Where’s your next class?”

“Um. History,” Eddie says, sounding confused. “Why?”

“I’m walking you there, obviously,” Nancy says, shouldering her bag and raising her eyebrows at Eddie until he does the same.

Eddie smiles, wanly. “You don’t need to do that for little old me, Wheeler.”

“I don’t care, I want to,” Nancy shoots back, following him out of the canteen and down the corridor towards the staircase. “Did you see the way some of those idiots were looking at you, earlier? There’s optimism, and then there’s stupidity. I’m not having you jumped on my watch, okay?”

Eddie isn’t looking at her now, and she thinks that’s purposeful, but she sees him hide a smile into his shoulder.

“Wheeler, has anyone ever told you you’re a force to be reckoned with?” he says, finally.

“Yes, they have,” Nancy says, honestly, and walks in step with him down the corridor. She’s late for Biology, but it’s worth it.

Things settle now that Eddie’s back at school—or, as much as they can settle for a former murder suspect. Nancy has taken to monitoring the corridors as closely as she can for any signs of dissent, and she continues to walk him to his first class of the morning and afternoon. She can’t be there all the time, though, and she can always judge by Eddie’s mood when she gets to the trailer whether it’s been a bad day or not.

The good days outweigh the bad, though, which is something, at least.

Robin joins them for lunch more days than not, most of the time with Vickie hanging over her shoulder. It isn’t that Nancy dislikes Vickie, necessarily. She would just much rather talk to Robin without her there. She doesn’t get why Vickie has to join them all the time—she isn’t part of the group and she has no connection to Eddie or the kids, and none of Robin’s other band friends ever come with them. It’s suspicious, is all Nancy is saying.

(She still hasn’t spoken to Steve. It isn’t that she’s avoiding the matter—she’s just been really busy.)

Case in point: studying. Finals are fast approaching and just because Eddie is up to date with his assignments doesn’t mean that passing is a given. They’re currently in Eddie’s bedroom, sitting cross legged at opposite ends of his bed, having just finished a practice essay for World History. History, Nancy is learning, is one of Eddie’s weak spots; performing well relies on memorisation and regurgitation rather than making-it-up-as-you-go-along-with-annoyingly-innate-natural-talent, which has been his approach so far.

Eddie’s reward for finishing the essay is getting to play his favourite tapes for Nancy, and she’s already regretting agreeing to it.

“No, I get that it saved our lives and I’m sure you looked totally badass playing it,” Nancy is saying, “I just don’t get why the lyrics need to be so violent! And don’t tell me that guitar solo isn’t at least a little bit indulgent.”

“Take that Kirk slander out of your mouth,” Eddie mock gasps, throwing a pillow in her direction. “Indulgent? Indulgent, she says.” He scoffs. “Don’t come at me with indulgence when I know you listen to George Michael, Nancy Wheeler.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Careless Whisper,” Nancy says primly, feeling her cheeks redden, and Eddie grumbles in disagreement under his breath. “And shush, I’m listening.” She settles back against his bedroom wall, trying to pick out the lyrics. The guitar—isn’t bad, she’ll admit. She’s never really listened to metal before, but there’s something about the sheer wall of noise which feels almost comforting, in a strange way. Like she’s being cloaked and shielded by the sound. Ultimately, though…

“It just reminds me of Vecna,” she says, quietly. “All the talk about twisting minds and pulling strings.”

Eddie’s fingers had been tapping rhythmically along with the drum, but they still at that. “I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s a metaphor for drugs and shit, but thanks for putting that in my head, Nance.”

Nancy winces. Jonathan often used to say that she should hold a thought in her head and consider her audience before saying it out loud, but he always sounded so patronising while doing so that she never put much stock in it. In retrospect, maybe he was onto something.

“I’m sorry!” she says. “That was a stupid thing to say.” 

Eddie hums noncommittally. His eyes are trained on the wall over Nancy’s shoulder.

“Do you—um. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do I want to talk about—Vecna?” Eddie blinks slowly.

“Not Vecna necessarily,” Nancy says, her face warm. She used to be good at offering emotional support, she swears. “I just meant. You don’t, really. Talk about it. And you can, if you want to. I’m here.”

(I’m here, she wants to scream, to Eddie, to Robin, to the world. Talk to me.)

Eddie smiles at her; he looks tired, but his eyes are soft. “Right back atcha, Wheeler,” he says. “But right now I really just want to make you listen to DIO.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, but scoots closer to him on the bed. Wayne is in tonight, judging by the sounds of footsteps throughout the trailer. He knows she’s here, and she’s surprised he hasn’t knocked or asked Eddie to keep the door open. If they were at hers then her mom would have found an excuse to interrupt them at least three times by now. It’s nice, though, that Wayne so clearly trusts Eddie to have a girl in his room without it being assumed to be… that. She wrinkles her nose at the thought.

By the time she leaves Nancy has a list of Hard Nos (Slayer, Megadeth, Motorhead, Anthrax), Not Completely Painfuls (DIO, Metallica, Iron Maiden) and surprisingly, a couple of Yeses. There’s something catchy about Judas Priest, something softer than the rest of the music Eddie’s played for her so far; she could see herself humming Living After Midnight in the shower.

As he walks her to the door, Eddie suddenly smacks his head with his hand and rushes back to his room.

“Don’t-leave-I’ve-just-remembered-! ” he hears him call from between the walls, and she snorts.

After prolonged sound of drawers opening and closing, cursing, and a bump which sounded worryingly like Eddie had fallen from a height, he returns, colour high in his cheeks, holding something awkwardly behind his back. Nancy raises her eyebrows, questioning. 

“Okay, so,” he says, loudly, one hand reaching behind his head to pull at his hair. “I made you something. Don’t look at it till you’re in the car.”

He shoves whatever he’s holding quickly and forcefully into Nancy’s hands and then looks away, tapping his feet.

Nancy looks down. It’s a mixtape. She turns it over immediately in her hands—she can’t see a track list, but the title scrawled onto the front of the tape with a messy marker pen says Bitchin’ Chicks. Nancy suddenly feels very warm.

“Eddie,” she says, softly, and she knows her eyes are large in her face as she looks at him.

He glances back at her and groans, “I told you not to look at it yet, the fuck, Wheeler—”

Nancy steps forward and wraps her arms around Eddie’s waist, pressing her face to his chest.

Eddie stiffens immediately, and she can feel his arms flailing on either side of her head. She smiles, and squeezes him tighter, until his arms gently come to rest around her shoulders, squeezing back.

“You made me a mixtape,” she says into his chest, and she can hear that her voice sounds watery.

“Shut up,” Eddie says. “It’s not, like. I mean. It’s not all metal. There’s a real lack of ladies on the metal scene right now, but when you move into prog rock there’s a lot more on offer. It’s still a metal as fuck mixtape though, if I say so myself.”

He pushes her backwards and holds her at arm's length, raising his eyebrows as he makes eye contact. “We’re expanding your horizons, Wheeler, okay? We’ll make a metalhead out of you yet.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling wide as she steps back towards the door. 

“Thank you,” she says. “I love it.”

“You haven’t listened to it yet, you might hate every track.”

“I know I’ll love it.”

“Of course you will,” Eddie winks, but she can tell he’s more anxious than he looks. “Now, get out of here, stop looking at me, it’s embarrassing.”

“For you or me?” Nancy calls over her shoulder, and sees him stick his middle finger up from the doorway as she heads to her car.

She puts the tape on immediately as she pulls out of Eddie’s drive. The first song kicks off with a blast, loud guitars and a solid repetitive drum beat. It’s not dissimilar to the sound of the tapes Eddie played for her earlier, but when a woman’s voice yells ‘Let’s go!’ before launching into a verse which is more shouting than singing, Nancy feels something spark in her chest. Oh. She likes this.

She fiddles for the track list with the hand not on the wheel. Girlschool. She’s never heard of them. She glances at the rest of it, most of the names unfamiliar—Black Knight, Bitch, Acid, The Slits—and some names she recognises but hasn’t really ever explored—Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Pretenders, Blondie. The chorus kicks in, and Nancy finds herself nodding along as she drives. It just makes a difference, having a female singer. She can’t explain why, but it makes the heaviness of the guitar so much more palatable. Enjoyable, even.

She gets home and goes straight to her room, popping the tape into her tape player. The next song starts, and it’s darker, almost gothic. The singer’s voice has an hypnotising quality to it, and, bizarrely, she feels herself blushing as she listens.

Steve was the first person to ever gift Nancy a mixtape. She’d thought it was so sweet, at the time, but after that first listen she can’t say she gave it much thought. Steve was a real romantic at heart, and the tape had been full of love songs cheesy enough to rot your teeth. It was a gesture, meant to woo her, and it had worked, to be fair. Jonathan was a lot more of a music aficionado than Steve, and the mixtapes he’d made for Nancy had more variety to them. But they were still, ultimately, romantic; full of rock ballads and grand metaphors and men whining about how hard it is to be in love.

There was nothing romantic about Eddie’s tape. In fact, the song she’s currently listening to seems to be about someone who’s been imprisoned all their life finally breaking free of the monster watching over them—literally watching over them, she doesn’t think it’s a metaphor. Love hasn’t been mentioned once. This was an expression of love in a different way. Eddie didn’t listen to female fronted bands—or, not often, not in Nancy’s earshot, anyway. Which means he’s gone out of his way to find the records to burn onto the mix. Which means this isn’t just about Eddie sharing something he loves, but also about Eddie carefully selecting songs that he thought Nancy would enjoy. She clutches the tape to her chest, tightly.

Nancy has never made a mixtape for anyone before. As she settles into bed, she wonders what sort of music Robin likes. She bets Robin knows at least some of the names on this tape; Robin’s style is so much cooler than Nancy’s, she definitely finds her music in ways other than what’s played on the radio channels. Maybe one day she and Robin will be close enough that Nancy could make her a mixtape. She wonders if Robin would like that.

Nancy falls asleep with a smile on her face.

The following day, Nancy spends her whole lunch break dissecting the mixtape with Eddie, who is so clearly elated that she immediately listened to the tape and has opinions (even if he disagrees with them: “I knew you’d like the Blondie, you’re so predictable, Wheeler”; “Just give Acid a chance, okay?”). Robin and Vickie aren’t sitting with them today, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary and Nancy barely lets it bother her. It’s a good day, and Nancy is in a good mood as she collects her books from her locker and makes her way to the parking lot. She isn’t doing anything for the school paper today, and Eddie has other plans, so she’s looking forward to a quiet evening of listening to her tape some more.

And then she spots Robin crying in the corridor.

It isn’t obvious at first—in fact, Nancy’s first thought when she spots her is how unusual it is for Robin to be alone, no Vickie in sight. It’s only as she gets closer that she notices how tight Robin is holding her body, how she’s keeping her eyes on the floor and angling herself away from anyone passing by. Robin clearly feels the weight of someone approaching and looks up automatically, and Nancy’s breath catches in her throat at the sight of her; red-eyed, puffy-faced, and looking absolutely miserable.

“Robin! What’s wrong?” Nancy says, voice coming out loud and demanding.

To her horror, Robin’s eyes immediately fill with tears, and she breaks Nancy’s gaze, eyes trained on the inside of her locker.

“It’s-nothing-I’m-fine,” she says, so quickly that Nancy almost misses it.

“You’re clearly not fine,” Nancy says, softer this time.

Robin sniffs, once, twice, and then closes her locker shakily. She rests her head briefly against its surface, before seeming to shake herself and turning back towards Nancy. Her eyes are dry again, but her mouth is visibly trembling.

“I’m honestly fine!” she says, “sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t worry about me.”

“Why are you apologising?” Nancy says, bewildered. She moves closer to Robin—she wants to give her a hug, but isn’t sure it would be appreciated. “And cut the bullshit. You’re not fine, and that’s okay. I want to help, what can I do?”

Robin lets out a huge sniff, and then laughs shakily. “I really appreciate it, Nance, but there isn’t anything you can help with. I’ll be fine—really. Steve’s on his way to pick me up and take me to work, that’ll help.”

Nancy isn’t sure Robin’s in a state to be working, but she has a determined look in her eyes that is very familiar.

“Let me walk you to the parking lot then,” Nancy says quickly, staring Robin down at her questioning look. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but there’s no way I’m leaving you alone right now.”

This time when Robin laughs it’s both more wet and more real. “Don’t know why I was expecting you to take no for an answer, but sure, if you insist.”

She hitches her bag onto her shoulder and Nancy falls into step beside her, insides clenching slightly at the comment. That isn’t how she wants to be perceived.

They walk in silence until they’re through the doors that lead onto the parking lot, Robin making a visible effort to stop herself from crying again. Steve’s Beamer is nowhere in sight, and Nancy can’t contain herself any longer.

“Is it to do with… you know ?” she asks, lowering her voice even though there’s no one nearby.

Robin’s head snaps towards her, expression alarmed. “What do you mean ‘you know’?”

Nancy looks around again. “I mean. You know. The Upside Down?”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Obviously! That’s what you meant—of course—I knew that.” A longer pause. Robin’s expression is pained, as if she’s struggling with some great weight. Nancy wishes she knew how to make it better, wishes she had the tools to make Robin smile.

Finally, Robin sighs. “It’s nothing to do with that, Nance, don’t worry. I really will be fine.” She’s fiddling with the strap of her bag, eyes darting to the car park every few seconds, and okay, Nancy knows that Steve is Robin’s ride-or-die-bestie but it still doesn’t feel great. How has she become so bad at emotional support that she’s losing out to Steve Harrington of all people—the guy who refused to talk about Barb for a whole year after she died? It’s not fair.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Robin,” she says, quietly. “I’m sorry for pressuring you. I just—I care about you and I’m worried. And if there’s any way I can help then please tell me.”

Robin meets Nancy’s eyes with her own. They’re big in her face, wide and still glossier than normal, and Nancy suddenly finds that she can’t look away.

“It’s just—Vickie,” Robin says, quietly, and—that’s not what Nancy was expecting. Once the surprise passed, however, anger quickly set in.

“Vickie made you cry?” Nancy’s voice comes out sharp and cold, and Robin looks surprised at the vehemence. 

“We made each other cry, actually,” Robin says, a wry twist to her mouth that Nancy can’t interpret. “I, um. We’re not going to be hanging out any longer.”

“What? ”

Nancy isn’t sure what to say. She isn’t fond of Vickie, she’s self-aware enough to admit it, but that seems overly dramatic.

“Are—are you sure?’ she says. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can make up—she could apologise, or, or you—”

“Nance.” Robin smiles, and it’s sad. “Leave it. Just trust me, we’re not—we’re not friends anymore.”

Robin looks so crestfallen at that, that even though Nancy doesn’t really understand she steps forward and pulls Robin into a hug, arms wrapped around her shoulders. Robin stiffens instinctively, but after a moment her arms slowly wrap around Nancy’s waist—gently, as if she’s worried Nancy will break if she grips too tightly. Which feels ironic, because Robin is the one who looks a stiff breeze away from crying again.

“I’m so sorry,” Nancy says, voice quiet against Robin’s ear. Nancy thinks she hears Robin gulp at that, and she struggles for the right words to make this better. “There’s nothing worse than losing a friend, I know what that’s like.” She so rarely lets herself think about Barb these days that it feels weird to reference her out loud, even adjacently. It’s true though. “I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this.”

Robin sinks into Nancy’ shoulder, sniffing wetly, and Nancy squeezes her tightly. They stand like that for a long moment, before Robin abruptly stiffens again and pulls out of Nancy’s grasp, stepping backwards. Her cheeks are red. Nancy’s arms feel hopelessly empty.

“I mean, it’s not the same. Vickie didn’t die,” Robin says quickly, and then immediately winces at whatever Nancy’s face does in that moment—what it is, she isn’t sure, but she assumes there was some outward reaction to the sharp pain in her gut. “Oh fuck, I’m so stupid, I have no idea why I said that. Nance, I’m sorry, you were just being nice and my stupid blabbermouth—”

“It’s fine,” Nancy says firmly, because this was not what Robin needed right now. “It’s fine, and you’re right, Vickie isn’t dead. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t still mourning—just, in a different way, right? You’re allowed to take that time, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“That—actually makes sense,” Robin says, after a moment’s silence.

“Well, they call me smart for a reason,” Nancy smiles weakly, and Robin returns it with her own, even weaker version.

The brief silence is broken by the sound of an approaching engine, and they both turn to see the familiar Beamer pulling into the parking lot. The car stops far enough away that Nancy can’t see Steve at the wheel, but she’s so focused on Robin right now that she barely registers that this is the closest she’s been to him in weeks.

“Wait!” Nancy says, as Robin turns towards the car, as if her body naturally gravitates in the direction of Steve’s, like a magnet. Or a sunflower. “Wait, before you go. Um. We could hang out?”

Robin looks confused at that, and Nancy curses her sudden lack of ability to form sentences.

“Outside of school, I mean,” she says, quickly. “Whenever you want. I’d like to hang out, is what I mean, just to clarify. Not — not just because of this. But also. You’re down a friend, and I—I haven’t really had a girl friend since Barb died. I’m obviously not asking to fill Vickie’s shoes— ” Robin lets out a laugh at that which almost sounds like a bark, and Nancy winces. Okay, wow, she gets it.

“No, sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you,” Robin says, holding her hands up. “Sorry, wow, that must have sounded so mean. It’s just—never mind. Unintentionally funny there, Nance. But, um. Yes? To hanging out? I’d really like that too, I mean. Maybe, just, um. When the mourning is done?”

“Of course,” Nancy says, and her voice is gentle, even though she still feels like she’s missing a lot, because that’s what Robin clearly needs. “Whenever. I’m here, Robin. Just let me know.”

Robin makes an aborted little movement, as if she started darting towards Nancy and then changed her mind. Her hands clench and unclench at her sides a few times, and then her shoulders relax, for the first time since Nancy first spotted her.

“Thanks, Nance,” she says, then: “I should go. Dingus over there uses his breaks to pick me up for work—I can’t drive yet—and we’ll be cutting it fine at this rate.” She gives Nancy an awkward little wave, and then turns and almost sprints across the car park, an awkward almost skip movement with one leg taking longer strides than the other. Nancy watches her go in bemusement, a small smile finding its way automatically to her face.

Steve gets out of the front seat as Robin meets him, and she immediately throws herself into his arms—none of the stiffness or hesitancy that was present when Nancy had hugged her. Nancy knows she shouldn’t compare—can’t compare—but she can’t help but feel a longing as she looks at them.

When Robin finally pulls away—and it’s a long hug too, much longer than (stop it, Nancy)—she heads straight to the passenger door with her eyes on the floor, and doesn’t glance back at her.

Steve does though.

They meet eyes across the parking lot, some thoughtful kind of frown on his face that Nancy isn’t used to seeing and can’t even begin to interpret. He looks good—his work uniform shouldn’t suit him, yet as with everything he manages to pull it off. He raises a hand, a half-baked, hesitant wave, and Nancy has barely raised hers in response before he’s looking away and ducking into the car. The engine starts immediately, and then Nancy is alone.

She—really needs to talk to Steve. She feels guilty for putting it off, and knows that guilt is deserved. Knows that the longer she leaves it the worse it is, and the worse he must feel. She just—can’t bear the thought of breaking his heart again. Especially because this time she knows that she was the one who instigated it, with the looks, and the flirting, and the hushed conversations. It was unfair of her to project her insecurity about Jonathan onto Steve, and unfair of her to retreat without a word as soon as Jonathan arrived back in Hawkins. She knows this.

But right now, all of those thoughts are secondary to the jealousy she feels that Steve Harrington gets to be there for Robin in a way that she doesn't.

Chapter Text

Nancy imagines her first conversation with Steve post… everything, to go something like this: 

She’ll catch Steve towards the end of a shift at Family Video, purposefully planning it so that the store is quiet. Robin conveniently won’t be working, because the thought of Robin bearing witness to Nancy stumbling through this mess of her own creation makes her skin itch. Nancy will apologise for avoiding Steve, and for putting this conversation off, and Steve will immediately say that it’s fine, not to worry about it. They’ll talk about Spring Break, and they’ll mutually agree that they were both caught up in the moment, drawn to the familiarity of each other while their lives were at risk. There was no real chance of anything happening, after all; Nancy was still with Jonathan, and she’s still sure that Steve must have had feelings for Robin at some point during their friendship―why wouldn’t he? So it isn’t like he’s been carrying a torch for her all this time. 

At this Nancy’s mind begins to run away with itself, and Steve starts talking about how he’d always thought that Nancy and Robin would make such good friends. That he wants them to be civil, so that Robin doesn’t need to feel awkward about hanging out with Nancy. Now that he thinks about it, Nancy and Eddie make such good friends too, and―okay. So maybe that last part is slightly unrealistic, but she’s still workshopping. She has time.

Except, of course, that she doesn’t have time. And the way that her first conversation with Steve post-everything actually goes down is nothing like that at all. 

It’s a Friday, the second week of May, and finals are in full swing. Nancy isn’t worried; she’s built up enough credit that the exams are basically a tick-boxing exercise for her at this point, and Eddie is performing remarkably well under the pressure. In fact, she feels like she’s unlocked a secret competitive streak within him that is forcing him to turn up to every class and sit every paper through sheer stubbornness and spite. He may not care about academics, but boy does he like to subvert expectations, and once Nancy figured out how to use this to her advantage they were on a winning streak. Conforming has become Eddie’s new way of non-conforming; he’s started sitting in the front row, taking diligent notes and raising his hand politely when he needs something explained further. She can feel the smug radiating from his core as the teachers who never believed in him or encouraged him grow more and more baffled with each passing day. It makes her wonder how different things could have been if the two of them had met earlier.

Right now, though, they aren’t studying; they aren’t even hanging out, despite the fact that they’re both at Nancy’s house. Nancy is in the kitchen, making herself a mug of hot chocolate to take back up to her room with her. Eddie is in the basement, with Mike and Dustin and the rest of the party, playing some sort of one-shot D&D game as a teaser for the longer campaign that Eddie is planning for the summer. Nancy had tried to be disapproving when he’d told her about it, but honestly, he looked so excited at the thought of playing again that she couldn’t bear to say anything.

Besides, it gives her more time to make flashcards. Eddie is staying later at hers after the game finishes and History is still his weakest link. She’s spent her evening prepping significant dates based on the topics she’s worked out are most likely to come up from past-papers, and she wants to go through them with him one more time before the final on Monday.

The doorbell rings, and she calls to her mom that she’ll get it without thinking. Steve looks like a deer in headlights when she opens the door, shoulders immediately raising and hands jumping behind his back. His eyes are wide and startled, and Nancy is sure hers look the same.

“Oh!” she says, and then… doesn’t say anything else. She had a plan, god damn it. The plan was neutral territory, not her own kitchen while most of their mutual friends were within earshot.

“Hey, Nance,” Steve says into the silence, waving awkwardly before trying to style it out into a hair sweep. It doesn’t work, and Nancy hates that she still feels fondness coursing through her at the sight of him. This would all be so much easier if Steve wasn’t so damn charming.

“You’re here for―”

“Right, Dustin, yeah―”

“Of course, I should have―”

“No, no, I should have―”

They both stop, grimacing at each other. 

“This is painful,” Nancy says, taking the lead as Steve screws his face up into a wince, one eye shut. “Come in, they’re finishing up soon, I think.”

Steve follows her into the kitchen, and looks about to say something before Nancy freezes in horror.

“Wait. Um, if you’re picking up Dustin…”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Steve says, immediately picking up on the reason for her discomfort. “I’m taking them all with me, I rang Joyce and Mrs. Sinclair earlier. So, um. Just the one awkward ex encounter for tonight, at least.” He chuckles, although it still sounded pained. Nancy hates that things were like this between them now.

“You offered to drive Will home so that I… wouldn’t have to see Jonathan?” she says, questioning.

Steve shrugs awkwardly. “Well, it wasn’t just for your sake, Nance, sounds like he doesn’t want to see you either right now. But, yeah, I guess.”

That’s―thoughtful. And sweet. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised―because if there’s one thing Steve Harrington has always been, it’s sweet―but she is. It makes her insides prickle with discomfort.

She should thank him. She opens her mouth, but what comes out instead is:

“So, what, you and Jonathan are friends now?”

“What? No,” Steve huffs with clear frustration. “How did you get that from what I said?”

“Well, then how do you know he doesn’t want to talk to me?” Nancy says, skimming over that hearing that hurts―she’ll deal with it later. “How do you even know we’ve broken up?”

“We share all the same friends, Nancy,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against a counter. His voice is tight. “Of course I know you’ve broken up.”

That―makes sense. Robin has probably mentioned it. Or Eddie, even, if they’re still hanging out. Nancy hasn’t asked since Eddie first brought it up and he hasn’t said anything either.

Nancy closes her eyes. She doesn’t know why she’s getting defensive, she just―doesn’t want Steve doing nice things for her. Doesn’t want the fact that she and Jonathan have broken up to be some kind of indicator that they should carry on the… thing, that was between them during Spring Break. Doesn’t want to be having this conversation at all.

“I didn’t mean to get defensive,” she says, eyes still closed. When she opens them, Steve is watching her steadily. He looks tired, and his eyebrows are furrowed, and she knows she caused that. “And I―I know I’ve been avoiding you, since, you know. Since everything. I’m sorry about that.”

She hates apologising. Steve knows she hates apologising. She waits for him to jump in and say something, reassure her, and when he stays silent she carries on, more unsure now. 

“It―it wasn’t that I didn’t want to see you, exactly,” she says, trying to parse it out in her head as she goes. Steve stays quiet. “I mean. Well. I didn’t want to see you, but only because I had a lot I needed to deal with first. A lot I still need to deal with,” she adds with a wince. She smiles at him, small and hopeful, an apology and peace offering all in one.

Steve doesn’t smile back. “No, I get that, Nance, I do,” he says, arms still crossed, a small furrow still present at the centre of his forehead. “And trust me, I can read between the lines. I know you think I’m an idiot but I’m not actually stupid.”

Nancy scrunches her face up at that, surprised and a bit hurt. She doesn’t actually think Steve is an idiot, not really. He knows that. 

“I just―you didn’t say anything. For weeks and weeks,” Steve carries on, his voice louder now, like he was holding himself back before. “It’s a bit shit, Nancy, especially after ―” he cuts himself off, but she knows they’re both thinking about the woods in the Upside Down, about what Steve confessed. She winces. “And, to be honest, you still haven’t said anything now. Okay, great, you’re sorry you left it so long, now what? What do you want? ”

Nancy―doesn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting Steve to be like this; she honestly thought he would accept her apology and want to move on. That’s what happened last time, after she and Jonathan took that trip to visit Murray. It feels a bit like he’s throwing her apology back in her face. She’s unprepared; she wasn’t expecting to have this conversation at all, not tonight, anyway, and she can feel her heart rate picking up, the panic of feeling caught out sitting uncomfortably in her chest.

“Well, you haven’t said anything either,” she bursts out. “It’s not like you don’t know where I live, you could have come round yourself if you wanted to talk so badly.”

She knows it’s the wrong thing to say, knows it’ll make Steve throw his hands in the air like that, like he’s done, and she doesn’t want that, but she just. Can’t help herself.

“Sure, okay Nancy,” he says, and it’s biting, bitter in a way his voice so rarely is. “You know what, never mind. Maybe there isn’t anything left for us to say, anyway.”

And, wait, no. That isn’t what Nancy wants at all.

The sound of feet thundering up the basement stairs interrupts the tense silence, and Nancy immediately draws back, grabbing her now cold mug of cocoa for comfort and watching as Steve pushes a hand at his eyes, kneading his cheekbones and temple as if he has a headache coming on.

The kids burst into the kitchen with the energy of a stampede, talking over each other excitedly, hands gripping shoulders, gesticulating; enthusiasm pouring from every part of them. Nancy and Steve glance at each other, a mutual acknowledgement that this conversation is over―for now, at least.

Dustin heads straight for Steve, launching into a summary of the campaign which appears to have gone exactly to plan. Eddie was amazing, she hears him say. In his element.

She looks around for Eddie himself, surprised that his voice isn’t joining the furore, to find him leaning against the door to the basement, eyes darting between Nancy and Steve with an unreadable expression on his face. For someone so loud and open with their emotions, Nancy often finds herself unable to tell what he’s thinking.

She makes her way over to him.

“How did it go?” she asks, trying to push that mess of a conversation out of her mind.

“Um, good,” Eddie says, clearly distracted. He’s watching Dustin and Steve. “Oh, yeah, yeah, really good,” he turns to face Nancy, focused now, smile growing. “Little Sinclair killed it, obviously―” Nancy sees Erica preen at his words in the background, “but Lucas rolled the winning throw. It was epic.”

“Epic,” Mike choruses behind him, and Lucas looks over, one arm around Will and a smile on his face bigger than Nancy’s seen in weeks. Eddie clasps his hands in front of his chest. “We are not worthy, oh great and powerful Ranger.”

“Shut up, man,” Lucas says, but it’s obvious he’s pleased, and Nancy is struck, again, by how good Eddie is with the kids. 

She glances over at Steve to find his eyes on Eddie, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then he meets her gaze and the smile vanishes.

“Right, okay, everyone in the car,” he orders. “Come on, I’m not giving up the whole of my night listening to you losers give me the play by play.”

Dustin’s voice rises indignantly at that, but Steve ushers them towards the door firmly, Mike following to walk them to the car, it seems, hands bouncing on Lucas’ shoulders. Steve pauses at the doorway, looking back at them.

“Eds, do you want a lift?” he says, before cursing. “Oh, fuck, wait, headcount―no room. But, um. I could come back for you?”

Nancy frowns. Wait, Eds? And, okay, she gets that Steve loves to play chauffeur but a second trip for a grown adult feels entirely unnecessary. And unneeded, besides.

Eddie doesn’t respond, just looks over at Nancy with wide eyes as if he isn’t sure what to say, and Nancy’s stomach drops. After the way that conversation with Steve has gone, she couldn’t bear it if Eddie left with him.

“We have the History final on Monday, remember?” she says, her voice coming out sharper than intended. “I thought we were prepping? I can just drop you home later.”

Steve’s eyes cut to her for the first time since the kids interrupted them. He’s frowning, glancing between the two of them. She looks back at Eddie, who is―well, actually, she’s not sure what he’s doing. His arms are tight around his chest, hands gripping his upper arms, and his foot is tapping the floor rhythmically. He looks like he’s straining at the seams, a pipe about to burst.

“Yeah, no, course we do,” he says, finally, his voice coming out tight and anxious. “But, um―”

He looks back to Steve, who’s already looking away. 

“Right,” Steve says. “I’ll leave you both to it, then.”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Eddie blurts out, his eyes darting between Steve and Nancy. He’s so clearly uncomfortable; Nancy’s uncomfortable too. The air feels thick around her.

Steve scoffs. “Trust me, man, don’t worry about that,” he says, without looking at either of them. “I’ll catch you later?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly, and then the door is shut and Steve has gone.

Nancy lets out a long sigh, pressing her mug against the side of her face. When she looks at Eddie, he’s uncoiled his body slightly, but his eyes are still big and concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Is, um. Is Steve okay?”

“Well, that was a disaster,” Nancy says back. Her eyes feel hot; she shuts them quickly to prevent any tears forming. Not right now, while Eddie’s here and there’s still work to be done.

She feels Eddie approaching her cautiously, and when she opens her eyes he’s hovering by her side, awkwardly.

“We don’t have to study,” he says softly.

“We do,” Nancy says. “I want to.”

“Okay,” he says, in that same gentle tone. “Okay, that’s fine Nance. Do you want to talk about it?” 

Eddie looks like he’d rather do anything else than talk about it. He’s still visibly anxious, pulling at his sleeves, and there’s a guarded look on his face that Nancy isn’t sure how to read. And besides. Nancy doesn’t even know what she’d say. 

“Really, really not,” Nancy says with a wry chuckle. “Are you okay? You seem―really tense.”

Eddie laughs, loud, too loud for the situation. “Who, me? Course I am. Ignore me. I just don’t like awkward situations, and Jesus could you cut the tension with a knife back there.”

“God, I know,” Nancy says, pulling her hands over her face. “It was awful. I’m sorry. Can we just study, please? I made flashcards,” she widens her eyes and wiggles her eyebrows at him.

Eddie barks out a laugh and shakes his head, and although the air is still off they feel back on familiar footing at least. “Of course you did, Wheeler. Of course you did. Well! Lead the way, then―my education awaits!” 

He gestures at the stairs with a bow and then follows up behind her. It’s a quieter evening than usual; Nancy’s head is all over the place, mind unable to focus, and Eddie’s attention seems elsewhere too. He begs off early, claiming tiredness when she knows full well he’s never asleep before midnight. After Nancy drops him home she turns the volume all the way up on her car speakers, letting Girlschool drown out her regret.

Nancy’s plan is to spend Saturday moping, but she’s barely dressed before her mom calls from downstairs that someone is on the phone for her.

She picks up her phone with some trepidation; could it be Steve, wanting to continue their argument? She knew it wouldn’t be Eddie―it’s too early for him to be up, and besides, she isn’t sure that the landline at the Munson's works. The few times she’s tried to call she’s always hit with an engaged tone, and unless Wayne is a lot chattier than he seems or Eddie has developed a whole bunch of other friends something doesn’t seem right there. And she―can’t think of anyone else who would be calling on a Saturday.

Apparently, she’s wrong.

“So,” says Robin’s voice, loud in her ear, and Nancy’s stomach immediately tightens with surprise. “Vickie was supposed to be staying round this weekend, Steve’s working all day, and Nance, I’m not gonna lie, I am driving myself up the wall. Want to come over?”

Nancy has never said yes quicker.

As she drives to Robin’s neighbourhood, however, she finds her excitement turning to nerves. She can’t remember the last time she was invited round someone’s house with no agenda, no to-do list to complete or conversations to address. What if Steve has told Robin about yesterday―scratch that, what if Steve hasn’t told Robin about yesterday? The last thing Nancy wants to do is get in between Steve and Robin’s friendship, not when it’s clearly so important to them both. 

(And beyond even that, her biggest fear: that without agendas, and to-do lists, and conversations to address, Nancy doesn’t have anything else to offer.)

Before she completely psyches herself out, she realises that she’s already at the address Robin gave her over the phone. She blinks in surprise. Rather than a house, as expected, she’s pulled up in front of a large block of apartments, not too far from the main street. The building is so big that it’s divided into multiple entryways and stairwells, and Nancy is uncertain as she gets out of the car until she spots Robin waving frantically from the block on the far left.

“I didn’t know you lived in an apartment!” Nancy says as she approaches, pleased to be given an opening line instead of worrying whether or not to go for a hug.

Robin shrugs and she holds the door open for Nancy to walk through. “We don’t have much money,” she says, matter-of-factly, a level of honesty that has never been present at the Wheeler family table.

“I had no idea,” Nancy says, matching that honesty rather than succumbing to the awkwardness of her parents whenever anyone brings up finances. She knew that Eddie didn’t have much money, of course, and it was a thorny subject matter between her and Jonathan. She hadn’t ever meant to come across condescending or dismissive about it, but she knows retrospectively that she hadn’t always taken his concerns seriously. Maybe that’s another apology she needs to make―although, given how the last one panned out, maybe it was better she didn’t. She’s never heard Robin talk about money one way or the other, though, and would never have guessed from the way Robin dresses or acts that she comes from a different financial background to Nancy herself.

Maybe, Nancy realises, she needs to start checking her assumptions.

“Eh, it’s not that big a deal,” Robin shrugs, leading the way up three floors of winding stairs to a small landing with a door at either end. There’s a bike padlocked to the bannister. She unlocks the door on the right and gestures for Nancy to go through first. “Some people have money, some people don’t. I love my home, and I love my parents―more than a lot of people can say.”

Nancy knows she’s talking about Steve, and the guilt grows heavier in her stomach.

“Anyway! This is me,” Robin says, her voice loud, as if aware that she’s trod on dicey ground.

It’s a small apartment; a thin corridor with a door either side, one opening to a bathroom, and the other firmly closed. The corridor splits at the end into three more rooms, and Nancy spies a small but cosy kitchen and a glimpse of what must be Robin’s parents bedroom before she’s propelled forward into the living room. She immediately loves it. It’s cosy in a way that her front room has never felt; when she is at home, she finds herself splitting her time between her bedroom and the kitchen. The living room has always been her dad’s territory, rather than a shared space. But this room, with its triple seater couch―well-worn, lived in, and heaped with blankets―coffee table strewn with empty mugs and an ashtray, bookshelf so packed that there’s a separate stack of books teetering on the ground to its right, and Robin’s trumpet and music stand tucked away in the corner by the window; this room feels like a room you would want to spend time in just existing.

“I love it,” Nancy says, and she can feel the smile in her voice.

“You don’t have to say that,” Robin says, coming into the room behind her with a laugh that betrays her nerves.

Nancy spins around. “And you don’t have to do that,” she says, seriously. “I mean it, I love it.” 

She plops herself down on the couch and immediately pulls one of the million blankets over her legs. There isn’t a TV, but Nancy spots an old record player in the corner by the trumpet. Robin hovers awkwardly by the door, and Nancy is taken straight back to her first trip to Eddie’s. She pats the space next to her in what she hopes is a welcoming way, and Robin rolls her eyes and joins her. She’s smiling, but she looks tired, and there’s a puffiness around her eyes which makes Nancy suspect she’s been crying.

“How are you holding up?” Nancy asks softly, before cursing. “Wait, sorry. I shouldn’t presume you want to talk about Vickie just because you invited me round. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to! I promise not to push.”

Robin barks out a laugh at that. Nancy loves her laugh; it’s unrestrained, almost a cackle, but it’s one hundred per cent Robin.

“Nance, no offence, but I don’t think you’d be you if you didn’t push.” Nancy winces at that, and Robin’s smile drops. “Wait. Sorry, was that offensive? I didn’t mean for it to be. Sorry, I’m not very good at, you know. Knowing what’s appropriate to say in normal conversation.”

“I think you’re better than you think you are,” Nancy says. “And besides. I don’t think I’m very good at that either.”

Robin snorts. “Okay, fair. So, for honesty’s sake? Steve called me this morning before his shift started, gave me his version of what went down last night. And I figured, well, I’m feeling sad, you’re probably not feeling great either. So we may as well mope together.”

Nancy is struck, overwhelmingly so, by how kind Robin is. She’s having a miserable time herself, clearly. And Nancy can’t imagine Steve had nice things to say on the phone. Yet still, her first reaction was to check in on Nancy, to invite her into her space and make sure she wasn’t alone. Nancy feels warm all over, and the feeling only increases when Robin meets her eyes across the couch and pulls a face at her, widening her eyes and twisting her mouth in what Nancy thinks is meant to be a: ‘eh, what can you do?’

And suddenly, Nancy would do anything to take that look off Robin’s face.

“Okay, nope,” Nancy says decisively, and Robin frowns at her in confusion. “No moping today, for either of us.”

“Al-right?” Robin says, drawing the word out slowly, clearly bemused.

“I mean it!” Nancy says, tugging the blanket so it’s covering Robin too, a smile overtaking her face which Robin quickly mirrors. “I’m banishing Vickie from this room for today, okay? No more sad thoughts about her. And I’m banishing Steve too―sorry, you can have him back tomorrow,” she adds―look, she’s making a joke!―and Robin laughs loud at that. “Because you were right before―sometimes it is okay to just not want to talk about things. So―no ex-friends, no ex-boyfriends. No moping. Today we’re going to have fun!”

Robin has a strange little smile on her face when she says, “Okay. Okay, I can get behind this. No exes of any sort. Not today!”

“Not today,” Nancy agrees, and leans forward to squeeze Robin’s knee gratefully.

And so the day passes, and it takes Nancy back to elementary school, when she would go round Barb’s house on the weekend to play and the two of them would amuse themselves for hours making up stories and acting them out. Robin makes them tea―proper English tea, because apparently that’s a thing Robin is into―and they start off just talking, but, about anything. Everything. Before long Nancy is confessing that before she discovered journalism she wanted to be a ballet dancer for the longest time. Robin, it turns out, used to want to be a spy, which makes Scoops Troops hilarious retrospectively.

(“Oh, don’t worry, I was fully aware of the irony as those Russians were pumping me full of drugs,” Robin snorts, and Nancy can’t help but join in.)

Robin’s favourite book is The Dispossessed by Ursula Le Guin, which Nancy hasn’t read. Her favourite subject in school is English, and her least favourite subject is Woodshop, or anything else which requires fine motor skills. She hasn’t applied to college yet―she’s thinking about taking some time first to work full-time and save up money to help with fees and moving costs―but she wants to eventually live in a city, somewhere where she can meet people with the same interests as her, somewhere with a good music scene. Nancy thinks of Emerson and is hit by the usual wave of dread; stays quiet.

Soon they’ve moved on to music. Robin whips out her trumpet and gives a rousing performance of Super Trouper which has Nancy in stitches. They dig through Robin’s records, and Nancy is delighted to find that courtesy of Eddie she recognises more names that she would have otherwise.

(“I can’t believe you’re a Runaways fan!” “I knew you’d be into Blondie!”)

Robin’s favourite artist is Patti Smith and she puts on Horses for Nancy, who is more and more gripped with each track. It’s different from Eddie’s music―and she’s learning that maybe, actually, her own taste also leans towards the heavier side―but Nancy loves the tone of Patti’s voice, and she loves that Robin is sharing this piece of herself with her.

Then Robin puts The Runaways on and they somehow end up on their feet, jumping up and down and dancing and probably making a horrible racket for Robin’s downstairs neighbour, but Nancy can’t bring herself to care because she can’t remember the last time she felt this free. That’s how Robin’s mom finds them when she gets home from her waitressing shift; jumping up and down and screaming along to Cherry Bomb.

Karen Wheeler wouldn’t have known what to do with the scene, but Melissa simply introduces herself and says she’s heard all about Nancy―much to Robin’s clear embarrassment―insists she stays for dinner (“Richard has a double shift tonight anyway!”), and next thing Nancy knows she’s calling her mom asking if she can sleepover.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Nancy says, closing Robin’s bedroom door behind her. Robin’s room is just as chaotic as Nancy would have expected; walls plastered floor to ceiling with posters of a whole variety, from bands to films to rockets to one large poster that Nancy thinks might be of a famous magician. The floor is a mess of clothes, her laundry basket overflowing, and the bed is full of books. 

“I promise I have not been strong-armed by my mother into spending time with you, Nance,” Robin says, dryly, sweeping the books off her bed onto the floor with a wry grin. “She’s a woman of many talents but even she hasn’t reached hypnosis.”

“You know what I mean,” Nancy says, but she’s smiling as she joins Robin on the bed. Robin has relaxed over the course of the day, and it’s only now that Nancy is realising how nervous Robin was around her before.

“I think she was just happy to see me spending time with someone who isn’t Steve,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “They like him, but they definitely do not understand our whole… trauma bonded thing.”

Nancy hums instead of answering―a habit she’s picking up from Eddie―and privately thinks that Melissa Buckley is not alone there.

“Today has been really fun,” Robin says into the comfortable silence. She leans back against her pillows, looking at Nancy with a soft expression on her face. “I’m glad you banned moping. I didn’t think about Vickie once.”

Nancy smiles sadly. “Can I ask what happened?”

Robin lets out a long sigh. It’s weary. “I promise I’ll tell you one day, Nance. Just not yet. I can’t explain why, but it’s complicated.”

And that’s―okay. Nancy hates feeling out of the loop, and she desperately wants to know what Vickie could have possibly done to make Robin this upset, but she can respect that she isn’t entitled to that information. Robin can tell her whenever she feels comfortable. 

She says as much, and Robin smiles gratefully.

“What about Steve?” Robin asks tentatively, and Nancy realises that she hasn’t thought about him, or Jonathan, once since she arrived. 

“I don’t want to make things awkward,” Nancy says, but Robin shrugs at that.

“Look, I love Steve to the moon and back, he’s like, my total platonic soulmate, but the guy’s also a complete mess. All I’m saying is I’m very aware that his side of the story is not always the only side.”

“No, Robs, but I think in this case he has the right of it,” Nancy says, wincing. “I was horrible yesterday. I just―I panicked. I don’t know what to do. I love Steve, and there’s a part of me that’ll probably always, you know, be attracted to him on some level,” Robin wrinkles her nose at that, “but. I just don’t want to be with him. I look at him and I love him but then he looks at me and I just feel itchy inside, and it’s making me lash out.”

Robin’s eyes are big in her face, and oh so soft. There’s a small crease in her forehead. “Nance, you do know that Steve doesn’t like, expect anything, right? He’s got the message, and he’d never want to make you uncomfortable―”

“It isn’t that,” Nancy says quickly. “I know he’d never want to make me uncomfortable. It isn’t even him, it’s just―all boys. I was a mess over Spring Break. Jonathan had been away for so long that it felt like we didn’t even have a relationship anymore, not a real one. And then Steve was there, and when it was all flirting and theoretical it was exciting but when it started to feel real I just… I don’t want that. I don’t want them to look at me, I don’t want anything to do with them. Honestly, Eddie’s the only boy I have any desire to spend time with at the moment, and that’s because I know there’s nothing romantic between us.”

Robin’s brow has furrowed even further now. “Nance―” she says, hesitantly, and Nancy just knows, all of a sudden, that she doesn’t want to hear whatever it is that Robin has to say.

“Pyjamas!” she says, loudly. Robin blinks, surprised. “Sorry. Just. Do you have a pair I could borrow?”

“Are you sure―?”

“Robin,” Nancy says, and her voice has taken on an almost pleading tilt to it. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, not until I understand what’s going on in my head. That’s the whole problem. Steve asked me what I wanted from him, and I honestly do not know.”

Robin’s smile is sad, and Nancy doesn’t know what she said to put it there. “That’s totally fine, Nance. Take all the time you need. And if Steve pressures you then you come to me and I’ll yell at him, okay?”

“Okay,” Nancy says softly, and hates that her voice sounds almost wet.

Robin gets up to grab some pyjamas from her drawers and Nancy immediately misses the weight of her on the bed. She catches the baggy t-shirt and plaid bottoms in one hand, and then stands to change.

The air feels heavy around her. Nancy turns to face the wall, and she can hear Robin doing the same, but that doesn’t change the fact that she can feel Robin behind her as she unbuttons her blouse and pulls it off. Knowing that Robin could look at her if she wanted is doing something funny to Nancy’s stomach, even though she knows Robin never would, not without Nancy’s permission (and… that was a weird thought to have, let’s put that back in the box). She pulls the t-shirt over her head quickly, tugging the pants on too and ignoring the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears.

When she turns back around Robin is staring determinedly at the wall, and Nancy has to clear her throat before she spins around. Robin’s face looks redder than normal, and her hair is all over the place, but Nancy thinks she’s never looked softer than here in her bedroom, wearing a t-shirt for a film that Nancy has never heard of and gesturing towards her bed.

Nancy slips in, and Robin turns off the main light but leaves the lamp by her bed on.

“Is that okay?” she asks, but Nancy is already nodding. 

“Helps with the nightmares, right?”

“Right,” Robin says, voice quiet.

They lie facing each other, Nancy’s hands beneath her pillow and legs spread out; Robin’s body curled up in a ball, knees almost touching her chest. It’s quiet, but there’s a strange buzzing going on in Nancy’s brain. She feels hot all over, to the point where she’s starting to get worried that she’s coming down with something. She tries to relax, but every time she meets Robin’s eyes she feels a million miles away from sleep.

“I had lots of fun today,” Robin says quietly. “I’m so glad you found me in the corridor, asked to hang out. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Nancy replies, matching Robin’s pitch. “But I’m glad you took me up on it.”

“Night, Nance,” Robin whispers, and she snuggles deeper into her pillow, closing her eyes.

“Night,” Nancy says back, after a pause. She stares at Robin’s face, eyelashes fluttering, mouth relaxed. She isn’t sure if Robin is actually asleep or just trying to get there, but she knows there’s no way she’ll be able to drift off like this.

She turns around so that she’s facing away from Robin and focuses instead on the posters that adorn Robin’s walls. After a few minutes she hears Robin’s breaths even out, but her own heart is still running on overtime.

It’s a long time before Nancy finally falls asleep.

A week and a half later Nancy is leaving her last class of the day when something solid and heavy collides with her in the corridor. She has a brief second of total panic before realising that the something solid is Eddie, and that he’s hugging her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.

“I passed!” he’s yelling, again and again into her ear, and it takes a beat for this to hit home before Nancy is yelling too, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and letting herself be spun.

She’s sure they’re drawing attention but she can’t bring herself to care.

“You passed?!”

“Miss O’Donnell kept me behind to tell me―you’re looking at a C-, baby! We’re graduating!”

“We’re graduating!” Nancy crows, laughing, as if this was never in any doubt for her.

Eddie stops spinning, finally, and drops her back to her feet, one hand steady on Nancy’s shoulder as she stumbles.

“Wheeler, Nance, light of my life,” Eddie says, still laughing giddily, but eyes serious. “Honestly, thank you. I would never have even tried going back to school after everything if it wasn’t for you. This,” he waves a hand, and Nancy realises he’s holding a scrunched up piece of paper―his History final, no doubt. “This is our win!”

“Nope, no way,” Nancy says, shaking her head vehemently. “This was all you, Eddie.”

Eddie grins, wild and unrestrained, and Nancy can’t help but laugh again as they walk down the corridor to the parking lot, linking arms. Nancy thinks they might pass Jonathan on route, at his new locker with the group of stoner kids that he’s fallen in with since returning to Hawkins, but she keeps her eyes firmly facing ahead and doesn’t let it detract from her elation.

When they reach fresh air, Nancy turns to Eddie.

“We have to celebrate! What are you doing tonight? We could―oh, I don’t know, go get milkshakes? Go to the arcade? Or just go to yours, whatever you want!”

Eddie stops walking, his face contorting into a quick grimace, and Nancy feels her enthusiasm draining away.

“Or… not,” she says. “No pressure, obviously.”

“It isn’t that,” Eddie says quickly, his hands twisting together. “It’s just―I already have plans tonight. Or, I think I do anyway. I’m―I’m hoping to have plans tonight.”

“Oh,” Nancy says. That―sounds like an excuse. Hoping to have plans is not the same as having plans, not at all, and suddenly Nancy realises that now Eddie has passed his finals he doesn’t have a reason to spend time with her anymore. 

Studying was what brought them together, and now that it’s over Eddie no longer needs her.

“No, hey, Wheeler,” Eddie says, and his voice has taken on a distressed edge. Nancy forces herself to meet his eyes and they’re wide with concern, but the twist of his mouth looks almost fond. “I can see what your brain is doing, and stop it. I just―might have a date tonight, okay? Or, well, it isn’t a date, not really, but. I don’t know. Maybe it could be, eventually. Otherwise, I'd be there in a flash.”

“Oh,” Nancy says, with a completely different tone this time. She’s never heard Eddie talk about dating before. “That’s great, Eddie! Do I know her?”

Eddie gives her a look, a clear I’m not telling you anything, and Nancy sighs, reluctantly holding her hands up. 

“Okay, fine, no questions. But good luck, seriously.”

She gets it. Re-entering the dating scene as a former murder suspect can hardly be easy. She wonders if Eddie’s potential date lives in Hawkins, or whether they met at one of the bigger towns he travels to for gigs. Maybe he’ll tell her, if it goes well.

“Thanks,” he says, one hand behind his head, gripping his hair, and Nancy realises that he’s embarrassed. “Look, it might not be anything, anyway. It’s probably all in my head, but.” He shrugs. “You know me, big old romantic at heart.”

Nancy’s mouth twists into a sad smile. She hopes it isn’t all in his head―he deserves a bit of romance, after the year he’s had.

“But! Onto more important things than my romantic struggles,” Eddie says, bouncing on the balls of his feet in the way he does when he’s excited. “I have a proposition. Are you free this weekend?”

“Ye-es?” Nancy says, drawing the word out into a question.

“Well, then! You, me, The Hideout, eight o’clock. There’s a shitty band playing that I think could be fun. I mean, they’re no Judas Priest, but there’ll be a good crowd there and the bar staff always serve me. I used to play there sometimes, you know, before. You in?”

Nancy has never been to The Hideout. Nancy has never been to a music concert that wasn’t a family trip into Indianapolis. Nancy has certainly never been to a metal show.

“Hell yes I’m in,” she says, and Eddie’s answering grin could power the sun.

Saturday comes around and Nancy is nervous. She has no idea what to wear, so decides to play it safe and go for black-on-black; a pair of tight black pants that she hardly ever wears and a lace top that she thinks could look vaguely alternative―if Nancy were an alternative person, of course, which she isn’t. She does her makeup heavier than usual, but still thinks the overall look makes her look like she’s been hired as the paid staff for a fancy event. Eddie looks at her approvingly when he pulls up outside her house though, and her stomach flutters with pride.

The Hideout is on the outskirts of Hawkins, in what Nancy’s mother would call an unsavoury part of town. The road leading up to it is badly lit, and the bar itself looks like it passed its prime a long time ago; grimy windows, faded paint job, and flickering lighting proudly displaying The Hi eo t in neon yellow. Nancy would not feel safe here without Eddie, honestly still doesn’t feel totally safe right now―but she supposes that as a man that isn’t something Eddie has ever had to grapple with.

Inside, there’s already a solid amount of people milling around the stage on the far side of the bar, while a tech guy fiddles about with the setup and microphones. Rather than leading them into the mix, Eddie grabs them a table near the back.

“I’ll get us drinks,” he says, and when Nancy gestures at the crowd questioningly, he snorts. “Honestly, Wheeler, we’re not here for you to be blown away by the prowess of Vengeful Martyr. One day soon, I’ll take you to Indy and we’ll go to a proper gig, it’ll blow you away, I swear. Tonight though, you know,” he looks shy all of a sudden. “I just wanted us to do something to celebrate, like you said.”

He leaves to go to the bar and Nancy watches him, her chest tight with fondness.

Eddie comes back with two pints, and Nancy doesn’t normally drink beer but―fuck it. If the past few months have taught her anything, it’s that doing what she normally doesn’t do can sometimes be the best thing for her. She takes a long swig and grimaces, but it goes down easily and soon she’s onto her second.

She’s had three pints before the band even start playing. They’re―okay, so they aren’t really Nancy’s thing. The first song is too high fantasy for her, their long haired front man singing about watchtowers and soldiers and marching to victory, and she can barely make out any lyrics at all from the second. It’s all a bit too Dungeons & Dragons and, to be honest, Nancy would just much prefer a female vocalist. But, still. It isn’t altogether terrible.

She glances at Eddie, to find him grimacing back at her. “Sorry, I know, I thought it would be a bit much,” he says immediately. “I really wanted to find someone you’d like, but the touring scene in Hawkins is basically non-existent and these guys are local-ish. We can leave? Let’s leave.”

“I don’t want to leave!” Nancy hears herself saying. She’s definitely already buzzed, not used to pacing herself when it comes to beer. It’s true though. She gets it, what Eddie is doing by taking her to this gig. Here’s a thing that’s just for me and you, it says. Here’s a thing we can do outside of studying, it says. I still want to be your friend, it says. “Let’s go in!”

Eddie looks sceptical. “You’re sure you want to?”

Nancy considers. “Buy me another drink and then let’s go in.”

“Got yourself a deal, Wheeler.”

Being in the crowd is an experience, to say the least. It’s a small crowd, sure, nothing like the arena where her mom had taken her and a friend to see Whitney Houston a few years back. She’d been seated, then, and while the crowd had stood for most of the performance no one moved from their designated space.

This was… not at all like that. Eddie pulls her into the centre of the mix and she finds herself pressed so closely up against the people in front of her that she is moved along with the push and flow of the crowd, no control over her own movements. Someone jostles her from behind, an elbow digging sharply into her back, but Eddie is immediately there, crowding behind her so that nobody can push her.

“As soon as you want to leave, tell me,” he says, voice low in her ear, but Nancy rolls her eyes.

“I’m fine. And shush, I’m trying to listen.”

Eddie snorts from behind her but doesn’t mention leaving again, and soon Nancy finds herself completely caught up in the atmosphere. She still isn’t loving the actual music, but it almost doesn’t matter, not when she’s surrounded by people jumping and dancing and shouting along to the ridiculous lyrics. For all that Eddie claimed he wasn’t a fan, he seems to know a suspicious amount of the words. It isn’t all men either―there are a surprising amount of women in the crowd; women with colourful hair, women with piercings, women with makeup caked around their eyes so black it makes them look like ghosts. They must have travelled in for the show; Nancy is sure she would have noticed these people walking up and down Hawkins high street before now.

They stay until the encore, and by that time Nancy is sweating so much that her hair is plastered to her neck and shirt to her back. She would be embarrassed, but Eddie is in a similar state, hair sticking to his face and dark smudges around his eyes.

“Wait,” Nancy says, and whoops, okay, the beer has gone to her head quicker than intended because she did not mean to speak that loud. “Sorry, wait wait wait. Is that… makeup?”

“It is indeed makeup,” Eddie says solemnly, leading her out of the crowd to the door with a firm hand around her shoulder. “Wheeler, are you drunk? You sound drunk.”

“Lemme see,” Nancy says, pulling him outside under the neon lighting. Now she was looking properly, she could see the black pencil lining the bottom of Eddie’s eyes, smudged in the corners by sweat or his own hand movements. She peers at his face closely, eyes narrowed, and then rocks back, satisfied. “Suits you. I like it.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Glad I meet your standards. Come on―pretty sure it’s past your bedtime, Cinderella. Let’s get you home.”

“I don’t have a bedtime,” Nancy says, voice coming out a grumble. “You’re one year older than me, shut up.”

“Two years,” Eddie reminds her as he leads her to his van. And, yep, okay, now they’re outside she is definitely not at all in the vicinity of sober. Sober left a long time ago. She trips over―well, something, because one minute she’s walking and the next she’s stumbling forward, but Eddie’s hand is there to steady her. “Failed twice, remember?”

“So stupid of you,” Nancy says, leaning into Eddie’s hand and yawning. “You’re too clever to fail.”

Eddie opens the van door for her, and then leans across her for her seatbelt, which is just plain patronising, okay, because she’s fine. He chuckles.

“We both know that’s not how it works, Nance, but don’t you worry. Got there in the end, didn’t I?”

He did. They did. Satisfied, she snuggles into the seat and closes her eyes, and hears Eddie climbing in himself and starting the engine. When the car doesn’t immediately move, she opens one eye and glances over at him. He’s looking at her fondly.

“What?” she says.

“Nothing. Just, um. Did you have a good time? I wasn’t sure―I mean. Was it terrible?”

“The best time.” Nancy says, nodding. “Meant’lot.” Her eyes close again. She’s so tired all of a sudden.

“Wait, whoa, don’t fall asleep yet, Wheeler, Jesus. But, um, good. I’m really glad.” A pause. “Wheeler. Wheeler.”

Nancy opens her eyes again, irritated. “What?”

“Will you get in trouble if I take you home like this? Would it be better to go back to mine?”

Nancy thinks of her mom’s reaction to former-murder-suspect-Eddie-Munson delivering her daughter home late at night drunk, and laughs loudly. Eddie looks startled. “Yours, definitely yours. I’ll tell mom I stayed round Robin’s house.”

She thinks Eddie shoots her a look at that―surprised, maybe? But she’s already closing her eyes again, and he doesn’t interrupt her this time, finally. She dozes for the rest of the trip.

Next thing she knows they’re parking up and Eddie is helping her out of the van. She feels more awake now, but still clings to him as he opens the door to the trailer. She feels safe with Eddie, and comfortable, in a way she hasn’t felt around anyone since Barb died. She’d thought she’d been looking for that with Robin―but spending time with Robin doesn’t feel safe. It feels electric; it feels like being back in that crowd.

She tries to say as much, but her words get tangled.

“What was that?” Eddie says, turning the light on in his room and rummaging around in his chest of drawers. He throws her a t-shirt long enough that she’s sure it’ll reach her knees. She moves to turn around, hands already reaching for the bottom of her shirt, when Eddie’s eyes widen with almost comic alarm.

“Bathroom, Wheeler, Jesus H. Christ. First door on the left.”

“I know where the bathroom is,” Nancy says primly, before stalking off to change. She almost topples against the sink trying to get her pants off―she’s sure they weren’t this tight earlier―but she manages.

When she finds her way back to Eddie’s room he’s also wearing a baggy t-shirt, and is hovering in the middle of the room awkwardly.

Nancy points at the shirt. “Judas Priest. We like them.”

“We do,” Eddie says with a smile in his voice, before he hesitates. “Um. So, we don’t have a spare room, and Wayne usually crashes on the couch when he gets in from the night shift. You take the bed, and I can just pile some blankets on the floor―”

Nancy is already pulling him over to the bed. “S’fine, don’t be silly. We can share.”

“Um, Wheeler. Are you sure? You’re drunk.” Eddie’s voice is suddenly tight with what Nancy thinks might be panic. She stops, spins around to face him and flicks him on the side of the head. Eddie flinches.

“What the fuck? What was that for?”

“Stop overthinking,” Nancy says, resting her hands on his shoulders. “You’re like Barb. You’re safe.”

Eddie’s face, which was furrowed into a frown, immediately loosens with something she thinks is shock. “Barb, like―your old friend? Barbara Holland?”

Nancy nods, crawling across Eddie’s bed to steal the side by the wall and fluffing the pillows until she’s happy with them. Eddie sits on the other side of the bed, looking at her almost cautiously. Nancy doesn’t know why.

“My best friend. She died in Steve’s pool. The Upside Down took her.”

“Yeah, um. I’ve heard,” Eddie says softly. “What did. Um. What did you mean by that?”

“You’re not alike, or anything, I don’t mean like that,” Nancy says, because this is important, but the words still aren’t coming out right. “She’d have honestly probably hated you.”

Eddie snorts. “Yeah, I can’t see an alternate reality in which me and Barbara Holland ever got on.”

“I dunno,” Nancy says with a one-shouldered shrug. “We get on.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. “We do. Funny old world, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I mean,” Nancy bursts out, frustrated. She looks down, fiddling with the sheet. “You’re like Barb. You, you remind me of her. Of how it felt like, to have her.”

She pauses, takes a breath. It’s hard, still, talking about her. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to have that again.”

When she looks back up at Eddie his mouth is open, slightly, and she swears his eyes look wet. He huffs out a laugh when they catch eyes, and looks down, blinking rapidly.

“Nance,” he says, and then stops, clears his throat. “This is probably a conversation to have when we’re both sober, but, um. I’ve never, like, had a Barb? So I don’t know exactly what it feels like. But, um. Me too. Yeah. Back atcha, and all that. Just so you know.”

Nancy knows she’s smiling a ridiculously big smile, and her eyes feel kind of wet too, which is weird. Eddie huffs out another laugh at the look on her face, and then leans over to turn off his light.

“Go to sleep, Wheeler. I’ll have a hangover breakfast ready in the morning, kay?”

“Okay. G'night, Eddie,” Nancy whispers, and she turns over to face the wall, wiggling around until she’s comfortable.

The quiet of the trailer engulfs her.

She can hear Eddie breathing behind her, but she doesn’t feel at all like she did while she was at Robin’s. She just feels comfortable. She wonders if it’s the alcohol? But that can’t be right. She’s had sleepovers before, of course, with Barb, and a few other girls from her class back when they were in middle school, and there was no alcohol involved then. Just two friends, sleeping in a bed. 

Wait― 

Nancy rolls over onto her back. She thinks about Barb. She thinks about Eddie.

She thinks about Steve. How it felt the first time she shared a bed with him. Before they woke up and it all went to shit, anyway. It was different, of course―they’d had sex, after all, but. Even in the aftermath, lying by his side, she’d felt. Anxious. Nervous. Excited. Flushed. Not comfortable, not safe. But. Not in a bad way. In a―

She takes a breath. She thinks about Robin. She thinks about Jonathan. She thinks about Robin again.

Oh. 

Well, fuck.

Chapter Text

So, maybe Nancy likes girls now?

It’s her waking thought the next morning, just as it was the last thing in her head as she finally managed to drift off to sleep the night before. Nancy Wheeler likes girls. Or, likes Robin, at least. She thinks? Or, well, she certainly had thought so last night, anyway. This morning, in the light of day, it feels so―alien. She doesn’t know what to do with it. Doesn’t know if she wants to do anything with it. 

Does what Nancy wants matter, here? Or is it a simple fact, an irrefutable truth: Nancy Wheeler likes Robin Buckley. 

(Nancy Wheeler thinks she likes Robin Buckley.)

Eddie probably realises that something isn’t right by the way she speeds through breakfast and makes an excuse to leave, claiming babysitting duties for Holly. He doesn’t say anything though, seems to sense that Nancy doesn’t want to talk. It’s quiet in his van as he drives her home, and Nancy feels guilty about it; he’d made so much effort the evening before, after all. But. She needs to be alone. She needs to think.

“You’re sure you’re okay, Nance?” Eddie says, watching carefully as she swings open the door immediately upon him pulling into her drive. She meets his eyes, and sees that they’re wide and concerned. “You’d tell me, right, if something was wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” Nancy says, and thanks god that all of those awkward family dinners growing up have given her an excellent poker face. Eddie keeps looking at her though, and she reaches over to squeeze one of his hands, still clutching the wheel. Only then does he relax, Nancy winces internally. “Sorry, I know I’m in a mood. I think I just need to sleep off the beer. But thank you, seriously, for yesterday. I mean it.”

Eddie smiles, finally, and she can tell that he’s relieved―that he’d been worried he’d done something to upset her. She feels like an awful friend for lying, but she―can’t.

“Catch you on Monday, then,” he says. “Just think, Wheeler, two more weeks and then we’re done with that hell hole.”

He winks as he pulls out of the drive, meant to lighten the mood, to reassure. Nancy feels her brain short-circuit briefly―school ending means summer means decisions means leaving―before brushing it aside. One crisis at a time.

She rushes upstairs, calling out “I’m home!” as she goes in the hope it’ll put off anyone following her. 

Making sure the door is firmly shut behind her, she sits on her bed and. Stares. Does her room feel different? Same white sheets, same pink wallpaper. Would she like pink, if she was gay, or should she prefer blue? She glances round the room wildly, eyes catching on her music box where it sits on her desk, next to her jewellery. Nancy has always been drawn to pretty things, much to her chagrin as she entered her teenage years. She’s strived so hard to move away from her good girl image; with her shorter hair, with her pursuit of journalism. With the metal, recently. But at heart she knows she’s still a girly-girl, always has been. 

Can she be a girly-girl and also gay? Nancy doesn’t know any gay people―or, she thinks she doesn’t, at least. It’s honestly not something she’s ever thought about. But if pressed, her image of a gay woman is―not someone like her, certainly. She pictures shorter hair, much shorter than her own, and masculine clothes. She doesn’t feel like she fits within that picture.

Her eyes catch the poster by her bedside table, Tom Cruise’s eyes staring back at her accusingly. She looks away hastily, burying her face in her hands and letting on a small scream. If she likes Robin, is she also allowed to have a crush on Tom Cruise?

This is ridiculous.

She lies back against her pillow and closes her eyes. She pictures Tom Cruise, imagines bumping into him―say, he’s in Hawkins filming his new movie about a guy from the big city forced to spend his summer in small-town Midwest, and they have a dramatic meet-cute when she accidentally stumbles across the film set. She imagines kissing him. And yep. Stomach tingles. Still feels the same as it did last time she had this fantasy.

She tries to picture kissing Robin, then, but she just―can’t. It’s not that the image is unappealing, it’s that she literally cannot imagine it. Would she make the first move? Or would that be Robin―how did it work with two girls? And if she even got that far, would Robin kiss her back? Or would she―the more likely scenario―pull away in disgust and then never talk to her again? Rather than pleasant tingles, her stomach drops at the thought. This clearly isn’t working―it had all felt much easier under cover of darkness.

And what about Jonathan, what about Steve? She knows, on some level, that she had been more attracted to the idea of Steve than Steve himself―though she never would have admitted that at the time. She knows, as well, that she and Jonathan worked best when they had a shared goal, when they had something to investigate together. Their relationship was smoother when the world was ending than it was as a regular couple. That wasn’t―normal, surely.

Did that mean that her feelings weren’t real? She doesn’t think so. But how is she supposed to know.

Nancy sighs, and rolls over, clutching her pillow and reaching for her mixtape. She doesn’t leave her bed for the rest of the day.

School during finals season is a weird liminal space. Corridors quiet even between lessons, walking past empty classrooms. With Nancy only going in to sit her exams and missing out on her usual lunch period, three days go by without any sign of Robin. They don’t share many classes in the first place, and Robin must be on a different timetable to her as she’s noticeably absent from the corridors between exams. Not that Nancy’s looking―okay, yeah, she’s absolutely looking. In fact, she’s desperate for a glance. If she could only see Robin, she’s sure she’ll know. And once she knows, she’ll―well, she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it.

Nancy is lucky that algebra is one of her strongest subjects, because by Wednesday she feels like she’s going out of her mind, barely able to concentrate on the paper in front of her. She catches Eddie’s eye across the room at one point, sees him raising his eyebrows at her in clear concern. She knows he’s worried about how quiet Nancy has been for the past few days, but, honestly, she doesn’t have a clue how to bring this up. What would she say? Maybe I’m gay, but maybe it’s all in my head―don’t hate me?

Well, okay. If there’s one thing Eddie Munson isn’t, it’s conventional, so she knows on some level that he wouldn’t have a problem with―this. With her. No, the problem is Nancy herself. Honestly, she’s scared. Words have power, and the thought of speaking this out loud, of bringing it into existence, feels too much. Not when she doesn’t know exactly what she is.

Nancy has always been an over-thinker, has always had a desire to analyse and solve and talk through every problem that’s come her way. Right now, she feels like that desire is working against her.

That evening, she can’t take it anymore. She shuts herself in her room after dinner and picks up the phone by her bed, taking a deep breath as she stares at the dial in front of her.

It takes Robin four rings to answer, and in that time Nancy nearly hangs up twice.

“Nance!” Robin says brightly at Nancy’s quiet hello, and immediately Nancy feels her face flush a deep red. God, she’s missed the sound of Robin’s voice. “Calling from the trenches? How’s it all going? I swear World Geography nearly finished me off today.”

When all Nancy does is breath down the phone unsteadily, Robin’s voice turns hesitant. 

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, quietly. “Um. No, yeah, it’s fine. Sorry.”

Robin is quiet for a second, then, “are you sure? Because, no offence, Nance, you don’t sound okay. Is there anything I can do?”

Nancy’s stomach twists sharply at that, and the laugh that bubbles out of her feels almost hysterical. She’d thought―okay, so she’d thought that hearing Robin’s voice would solve something, in her mind. That she’d hear it and know. 

Right now all she knows is that she doesn’t want Robin to hang up.

(Is that an answer in itself?)

“I’m sorry,” Nancy says, clearing her throat so that her voice comes out steadier this time. “I know we all have a lot on, I don’t want to bother you. I just―wanted to talk to you. To hear your voice.”

Robin goes quiet again, and Nancy panics, briefly, that she’s intruding, that she’s unwanted. Then Robin’s voice comes back with a tone that Nancy can’t place. “I’m always here when you want to talk, okay, Nance? Did you―I mean. Was there something specific you wanted to talk about? Or do you want to hear about my day? I’m warning you, it’s a wild story full of twists and turns. It might be too much for you. The customers I had to deal with this evening, Nance, my god you wouldn’t believe it.”

Nancy’s laugh loosens something in her chest. “That, definitely that. Tell me more, I’m on the edge of my seat.”

Robin launches into her story and Nancy sits back against her pillows, a small smile on her face. Before she knows it, an hour has passed, and Robin is yawning into the phone.

“I’m so sorry!” Nancy says. “I’ve kept you up so late, we have school tomorrow.”

Robin’s laugh is warm. “School is basically done, Nance, it’s fine. I’d choose you over sleep any day.” Nancy’s breath catches, and it goes quiet suddenly on the other end of the phone. “Um. What I meant by that is―”

“Same,” Nancy blurts out quickly, before she can chicken out. “Honestly, this is the best I’ve felt all week. Robin. Do you, um.” She hesitates. “Do you ever have something that you want to talk about, but can’t? Not―I don’t mean like the Upside Down stuff. More―personal?”

Robin laughs loudly at that, before quieting suddenly. “Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. Just, yes, I know exactly what that feels like. And I’m here, okay, if you feel like this again? Just call me. We don’t have to talk about your stuff, we can just talk about anything.” There’s a pause. “I mean, only if you want to, obviously.”

“I do,” Nancy says softly. “And you do the same, okay? With your thing. I’m here, too.”

“Thanks, Nance,” Robin says. The way she says her name has Nancy’s heart hammering in her chest. She twists the phone cords between her fingers, her face warm. “Good night.”

“Night, Robs,” Nancy says. “Sweet dreams.”

She thinks she hears Robin’s breath hitch before hanging up, but she’s probably imagining it.

Nancy puts the phone back in place and lies back against her pillows with a groan. If she looked in a mirror right now she knows what she’d see―eyes dark, face flushed. 

She doesn’t know what to do.

Nancy has always prided herself on being a woman of action. But she’s also prided herself on her ability to research, to gather information and fully assess a situation before making a rash decision. Right now, she feels those two parts of herself at odds with each other. Acting rashly could be disastrous, could lead to her losing Robin altogether. And yet, the idea of saying nothing sits wrong in her chest.

Could Robin like girls, too? It would certainly explain the fallout with Vickie. Or is that just wishful thinking on Nancy’s part? It had been so obvious with Steve. And with Jonathan, their relationship had developed naturally as they spent more time together―like they’d been heading that way from the moment they met. It felt different, with Robin. How was she supposed to know.

She thinks of Eddie, and she wonders what he would do if he were in this situation. She’s always admired how carefree Eddie is, even before she knew him properly. The way he genuinely doesn’t care what other people think of him―or, what the general population think of him, anyway. Even after everything he’s been through, that hasn’t changed. Nancy isn’t like that. The thought of talking about this with her mom―or, god, with her dad―makes her cringe into her pillow. 

She bets Eddie wouldn’t be so stuck in his head the way Nancy is right now.

Maybe she’s been approaching this whole thing in the wrong way.

Maybe she needs to be less Nancy Wheeler, and more Eddie Munson.

In retrospect, Nancy shouldn’t have turned up unannounced.

She was hoping she’d catch Eddie at school and plant the idea then―but she only had one class that day, and Eddie wasn’t in it. And, okay, yes, it would be more polite to wait until she next sees him rather than turning up at his front door, but. She’s made a plan. She needs to get out of her head.

When Eddie answers the door that evening his eyes widen, and, weirdly, he looks over her shoulder as if to check she’s alone.

“Wheeler? Wait, did we have plans tonight?” he sounds bemused. Then, he meets her eyes properly and his face shifts into concern. She knows she looks more frazzled than normal―she’d barely even brushed her hair this morning, and she genuinely could not tell you what she’s currently wearing. “Hold up. What’s going on, are you okay?”

Nancy marches past Eddie into his living room and he follows behind her, shutting the door and hovering over her shoulder as she dumps herself on his couch.

“I need your help,” she says, beseechingly, and Eddie immediately nods, eyes wide.

“Anything for the lady,” he answers, and looks pleased when Nancy rolls her eyes. He sits on the arm of the couch, feet in front of him and hands clasped between his legs.

“I want to get high,” Nancy says. Eddie’s face goes slack with surprise.

“You want to―?”

“Get high, yes. Smoke a joint.”

“... now? With me?”

“Yes, Eddie,” Nancy says impatiently. “I’m going out of my mind. I can’t stop thinking―overthinking. I need to get out of my head, and―talk to you, about some stuff. But I can’t. But I think I could, if…”

“If you were stoned,” Eddie finishes. Nancy nods.

She wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she was expecting―enthusiasm, she supposes, the way Eddie normally reacts when she suggests something un-Nancy. But right now, Eddie was looking at her with concern, hesitation clear in his face.

“That sounds like a really bad idea,” he says, voice frank. “Are you sure you can’t talk about it now?”

Nancy bites her lip, and shakes her head. 

Eddie’s face drops suddenly. “Wait. It’s not…?” He trails off, face pale, and Nancy catches on immediately.

“Oh, shit, no,” she rushes out, and Eddie relaxes. “Nothing Upside Down related. Just, um, just me related.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you? We can sort it out, whatever it is―can’t be worse than a murder charge, right?” Eddie says, and his smile is twisted, and he’s being so nice. Nancy feels like she wants to cry.

She lets out a hysterical little laugh. “I’m not in trouble. Look, Eddie, please? I know this isn’t the smartest idea, but that’s the point. I just want to―not be me, for the evening.”

Eddie makes a noise, deep in his throat, like he’s distressed.

“Please?” she says, looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

Eddie’s face remains uncertain for a second, before he sighs quietly. Something passes over his face, too quick for Nancy to catch, before he jumps to his feet and sinks into a theatrical little bow.

“Well, Wheeler! If it’s weed you’re after, then man, have you come to the right place,” he says, and he winks. “I promise, Nance, I have the good shit. It’ll make you feel so good. Just wait one sec, lemme grab it.”

He dashes into his bedroom and Nancy stays seated, trying to relax. She wonders if Robin has ever smoked; wonders what she’d think of Nancy smoking, before banishing the thought from her head. No overthinking, remember?

She thinks she hears a ringing tone coming from Eddie’s room, but there’s no further noise, so whoever Eddie was attempting to call mustn’t be in. She wonders briefly who it was, before Eddie is returning with a skip to his step and a small clear bag in one hand, rolling paper in the other.

“Pre-ground,” he says, waving the bag at her, and Nancy nods, trying to look more knowledgeable than she is. She knows how this goes theoretically, of course―she’s not quite that naive―but she’s never actually been around people doing drugs before. Not to her knowledge, anyway.

Eddie settles down on the couch opposite her, cross legged, and Nancy draws herself up so that they’re facing each other.

“I’m guessing you want, uh, me to roll?” Eddie asks, and Nancy nods, grateful he’s taking the lead.

She watches his fingers, deft as he folds a thick piece of paper at the head of the rolling paper, before sprinkling the weed onto the paper and rolling the edges together between his hands. Her own fingers twist together in her lap, nervously.

“You’re sure you want to do this, Wheeler?” Eddie says into the silence. “This isn’t, like, some weird peer pressure thing, right? You know I don’t give a shit if you smoke or not?”

“I know that,” Nancy says, firmly. “I want to. I’ve, um, honestly been curious for a while.” That’s a lie, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

Eddie narrows his eyes at her and Nancy can tell he doesn’t believe her, but eventually he shrugs, handing her the rolled up joint.

“Hold this for a sec, I’ll put on some tunes.”

He launches himself over the couch backwards to head to his bedroom, stumbling as he goes, and his coordination is so terrible Nancy has to hide her smile on her shoulder. She eyes the joint warily as she listens to him clatter around. Soon, he’s back with his tape player, and the familiar sound of Judas Priest fills the air. Nancy relaxes back into the couch, and Eddie leans over to take the joint from her, bringing his lighter out of his pocket.

“We’re sharing this one, okay?” he says, voice serious. “It’s potent stuff. And we’re taking it slow, and then I’m either driving you home or you’re staying here.”

“Okay, mom,” Nancy says, and Eddie pulls an exaggerated offended face at her, making her giggle. He uses his hand to cover the joint as he lights it, then takes a long drag, holding his breath for a long moment before exhaling slowly. Nancy watches him closely, and nods as he raises his eyebrows at her.

“Just do what I did. Slowly,” he emphasises. “Try not to hold the smoke in your lungs, it's not like smoking a cigarette. And don’t worry if you choke first time round, we’ve all been there.”

Nancy nods, trying to look confident but aware she’s probably coming across as jittery. She brings the joint to her lips and inhales; sickly sweetness fills her mouth and she immediately coughs, water springing to her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she says, still coughing, and Eddie, initially torn between concern and amusement, suddenly cackles with laughter. 

“Wheeler, your face,” he crows. “Christ, the disgust! That was golden.”

“Shut up. Is it supposed to taste like that?” Nancy says, and Eddie laughs some more. He looks more relaxed already. She brings the joint back to her lips and tries again; she doesn’t cough this time, but she still can’t say it’s a pleasant taste. She feels her mouth pull into a grimace.

Eddie makes grabby hands and she passes the joint back. He inhales deeply, the line of his neck long, and Nancy doesn’t understand how he makes it look so easy. He hesitates before handing it back.

“You really don’t have to, Nance,” he says. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to prove here, but if you don’t like it we can stop.”

“No!” Nancy says, then realises her voice was too sharp. “Sorry, just. Let’s carry on, I’ll get used to it.”

Eddie looks sceptical, but relents.

For a while the only sound is the warbling of Rob Halford’s voice in the background as Nancy and Eddie pass the joint back and forth. It’s relaxing. She feels herself sink back into the cushion behind her, and closes her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Nancy isn’t sure when it’s supposed to kick in, and when she voices as much to Eddie he laughs at her. She pouts back.

“Darling, I think it already has,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, it has not,” Nancy bites back, but―actually. She does feel a lot―looser than before, is the only way she can think to describe it. She opens her eyes, and Eddie is looking at her, big stupid grin on his face.

“Your smile suits you,” Nancy says, and Eddie lets out a delighted laugh at that.

“Ye-ep, it’s definitely hit,” he says, taking another drag. 

They sink into silence again, but it’s nice, relaxing. Nancy knows she should bring up―you know, the whole liking girls thing, but. That just feels like so much effort right now, when instead they could just sit here and enjoy each other's company.

“Still wanna talk, Wheeler?” Eddie says. He’s looking a lot more together than she is, but, she supposes he’s more used to this. Still, it feels unfair.

“Nope,” she says, and she sticks her tongue out at him. Eddie grins, wide. “Not yet. It’s―well. It’s not real till I say it. So maybe if I don’t say it then it won’t be real?”

“Wise words,” Eddie says seriously.

Nancy drifts for a while, moving in and out of conversation. The great thing about Eddie is that he talks a lot, and he doesn’t really need a conversation partner. She listens to him chatter away happily, occasionally interjecting when she knows it’ll make him huff at her. It’s nice.

“Ooookay, I think we’re done,” Eddie says after a while, and she watches him press the remainder of the joint against a little tray on the table next to him. “This was a great idea, Wheeler. Oh shit, wait.” His voice sounds tense all of a sudden, and it makes Nancy sit up in concern. Eddie is frowning. “I’m just gonna try make a phone call real quick,” he says, jumping to his feet. Nancy watches him leave, but he’s only in his room less than a minute before returning, eyebrows drawn together.

“No answer?” Nancy says, and Eddie shakes his head, distracted.

“Who were you trying to reach?” she says, and from the way Eddie looks at her Nancy can tell that he doesn’t want to tell her. Huh.

She has a sudden thought, and sits up straight, gasping. Her head feels―heavier than normal, is the only way she can describe it. Like the movement is more effort than it should be. 

“Wait,” she says. “Are you expecting someone? You weren’t supposed to have another date tonight, were you?”

Eddie holds her gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes, chuckling to himself. “You’re fine, Wheeler. I―um, I thought I did have plans later, but maybe I got mixed up. And it wasn’t a date, remember?”

“Your not-date, then,” Nancy says, rolling her eyes, and Eddie snorts at that. “These plans for later, they were with the same girl?”

“Um.” Eddie looks uncomfortable, and Nancy pouts at that. She didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable―actually, she hates it, she hates that he doesn’t want to share this with her. Although, to be fair, she hasn’t shared Robin with him. That’s why she’s here, after all. Maybe if she goes first he’ll follow.

She clearly looks deep in thought, because Eddie leans over and grasps her ankle where it’s still crossed in front of her.

“Don’t worry about it, Wheeler,” he says, softly.

“I do worry, though,” Nancy says, and okay, she’s gesticulating a lot more than usual. “I want you to be happy, Eddie. You deserve to be happy.”

Eddie smiles at her, soft, squeezes her ankle again before withdrawing. “I am happy. You don’t need a relationship for that, come on. You’re into that independent woman shit, right?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “I know, I know that. But―”. Okay. She can do this. She takes a deep breath. “It would be nice, though, wouldn’t it? Being happy and also―having someone.”

Her palms are sweaty, and she pushes them into her lap. The pleasant buzz from before has disappeared―actually, she’s starting to feel really on edge.

“Sure,” Eddie says, drawing out the word, eyes narrowing. “Are you okay? You look, um. Was this―what you wanted to talk about?”

“Um.” Nancy feels herself blushing. Why is this so difficult?

Unbidden, Robin’s image swirls in front of her in her head―her mind conjuring her up as either an encouragement or a taunt. She’s wearing the baggy t-shirt she wore for bed when Nancy slept over, and. Okay. Fuck it. Nancy lets herself sink into the daydream, lets herself imagine pulling Robin close to her in a way she hasn’t allowed herself to think about before now. She pictures it: one hand in Robin’s hair, threading through soft strands. Other hand on her jaw. Lips touching, gentle at first and then again, less so. Robin’s arms circling her waist, holding her in place.

The thought is broken abruptly by Eddie’s hands waving in front of her face, and Nancy flinches back, her face burning. Eddie’s frowning at her, pulling at his lip between his teeth.

“Where did you just go?” he says. “You completely zoned out―don’t, don’t do that again, please.”

Nancy lets the words wash over her. That was―pretty conclusive. She wants to kiss Robin. She definitely wants to kiss Robin. And actually, if she’s being honest, she wants more than that. Wants Robin around her, all the time. Wants to be by her side. The thought of leaving Hawkins, of moving away alone, has already become hard to bear when she was only leaving Eddie. Now, the thought of leaving Robin too, is ―incomprehensible. 

“Are you okay, Nance?” Eddie asks, and at that Nancy just―bursts into tears.

It’s like a dam has broken. She can’t stop, taking heaving breath after heaving breath, burying her face in her hands. She isn’t even sure why she’s crying. She doesn’t know if she’s―gay, or if she likes girls as well as boys, or if it’s just Robin, but she’s―she’s okay with it, really. If that’s what it is, then that’s what it is. She’s―relieved, more than anything, to have an answer. 

It’s just―it’s a lot, is all it is. She’s feeling a lot. She doesn’t know what she should do―is it better to risk ruining her friendship with Robin by telling her, or mentally compartmentalising her into a permanent what if. And what if―what if Robin likes her back? What would that mean, for her? For her future?

She opens her mouth to try and say all this to Eddie, to share the load and unburden herself. But the words just won’t come.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Eddie says, voice alarmed, and next thing Nancy knows she’s being pulled towards Eddie on the couch. She reaches out, grasps for him, and swings herself onto his lap, burying her face in his neck as she tries to calm her breaths. Eddie stiffens initially, clearly surprised at the contact, but then his arms come around her and he rubs at her back, whispering into her ear.

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s all okay. What’s wrong, huh? That’s okay, let it out.”

“I’m―sorry,” Nancy manages to get out between frantic breaths. Her chest is tight, and there suddenly isn’t enough room in her lungs; she tries to breathe deeply but it catches in her throat, breath coming in heaving gasps. 

“No, hey, don’t apologise,” Eddie says, dragging his hands up and down her arms. “Just breathe for me, yeah?”

“Okay,” Nancy says, and tries to match his breaths. She can’t even remember the last time she cried. 

After a while the air seems to return to the room. She’s lightheaded, but she can breathe properly again, and she sinks into Eddie, sniffling into his neck. One of his arms comes around her back, rubbing a circle in its centre in a soothing motion. It’s nice. Safe.

She pulls back, meeting his eyes, wide with concern. She wishes―she wishes he felt less safe. She wishes he felt more like Robin felt. It would just―be easier, wouldn’t it? If it were Eddie she had feelings for instead. He’s looking at her with such care, his arms still tight around her. They’d work so well together. If only―well. If only that was what she wanted. What either of them wanted.

“Can I try something?” Nancy hears herself ask, voice quiet, and she knows it’s a bad idea, but it’s like she’s having an out of body experience, like she has no control over her motions. Eddie is nodding, saying “yeah, of course,” with big, concerned eyes, and she hates herself, but she can’t stop from leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

It―okay, she was going to say it wasn’t a good kiss, but honestly it barely lasts long enough to even count. Eddie goes stiff immediately, and Nancy has maybe one second of thinking wrong/bad/regret before he’s pushing her back firmly. His hands are now clasped tight around her upper arms, holding her away from his body. The expression on his face is alarmed with a hint of disgust, and Nancy immediately feels awful.

“Wheeler, what the fuck was that?” he says, and his voice is sharp, and much higher than usual.

“Oh my god,” Nancy says. “I’m so sorry. I’m so―fuck.” Her eyes fill with tears again and she feels them slide down her cheeks. Eddie is still holding himself stiffly. Holy fuck. Why had she done that? Why did she think that would help? It felt―wrong, doubly so, now, when it’s so clear Eddie didn’t want to kiss her either.

“I have no idea why I did that,” she bursts out, voice frantic, and she can feel her breath start to catch in her throat again. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have―I shouldn’t―I―I’m not―I’m not attracted to you.” 

Eddie laughs, and it comes out hysterical. “Well, I’m not attracted to you either, Nancy! I thought we’d already established that,” he says, and his voice is still so high. “I know you’re not attracted to me―I mean, unless I massively misread that conversation about Barb?”

At that, Nancy lets out a big sniff and shakes her head vehemently.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, sounding like he’s trying to calm himself down as well as Nancy. “Well, then―”

“I’m so sorry,” Nancy interrupts, like if she says it enough times she can erase the last two minutes from existence. “Fuck, that was a really fucked up thing for me to do, I just kissed you without your consent― ”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says, and his hands have started moving again on her arms, though more hesitantly this time. “It’s okay. Look, I have―quite frankly―no idea what’s going on, but, um, clearly something is happening? And it’s fine. You’re fine, Nancy, just calm down and we can talk about it, okay?”

Nancy nods, sniffing. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. She’s so embarrassed. And anxious. About Eddie being mad at her, about Robin―Robin liking her, Robin not liking her. Well. Robin certainly wouldn’t like her if she saw her right now, that’s for sure. Nancy closes her eyes, exhausted.

“I need to tell you something,” Nancy says, and her voice is steadier now, quiet. “That was―so stupid of me, but let me explain, please―”

“Hush,” Eddie says, and his voice has gone back to soothing again. “It’s okay, deep breaths, yeah?”

Nancy nods, and then realises abruptly that she’s still sitting on Eddie’s lap. She flushes deeply, moving quickly off him but staying close on the couch. One of Eddie’s arms slides around her, keeping her close, and she’s so grateful for that, that he isn’t pushing her away, that she feels her eyes start to water again.

“And just to make doubly sure, you aren’t about to tell me that you have a secret crush on me?” Eddie says, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Nancy snorts, and it comes out wet and gross, but she feels slightly more back on even footing.

“Definitely not,” she says, then pauses. “Wait―no offence.”

Eddie laughs at that, and looks more relaxed too. “None taken, sweetheart, you’re not my type either.”

“Shut up,” Nancy says. She’s starting to feel calmer, more rational. A smile forms unwillingly, and she shoves at Eddie, and he pushes her back, and then―

The door opens suddenly, and a horribly, awfully familiar voice calls out, “Sorry, I know I’m early, but―”

Nancy looks over her shoulder towards the doorway in horror and meets Steve Harrington’s eyes. There’s a six-pack of beer under one arm, his car keys clutched in the other, tightening in his grasp as she watches until his knuckles go white. He takes in the scene in front of him, and Nancy knows what it looks like, her curled up on the couch, Eddie’s arm around her. And she knows she’s missing a piece of the puzzle here, but she can tell that this is bad. The colour drains completely from his face, leaving him looking small and fragile.

“Fuck, ” Eddie springs to his feet in clear panic, body twisting as he does so and pushing Nancy away from him in the process. “Steve―”

Steve stares at Nancy for a moment longer and Nancy has no idea what to do, or say. Eddie’s plans must have been with Steve? But―that would mean―? She feels utterly at a loss.

Eddie is staring at Steve with wide eyes. His arms come up in front of him, gently, as if Steve is a horse that’s easily spooked.

“Steve, whatever’s going on in your head, I promise this isn’t that,” Eddie says, and his voice is gentle in a way Nancy hasn’t heard it before.

Steve breaks Nancy’s gaze and meets Eddie’s, and Nancy watches as the blank expression he’s been wearing crumbles inwards, shockingly vulnerable for a flash of a second, before he looks away sharply.

“Did, um, did I get the day wrong?” Steve says to the wall, and his voice is tight. Dread is creeping into Nancy’s stomach―oh, how badly she’s got this mixed up.

“No, you didn’t get the day wrong,” Eddie says softly.

“Well, what is going on, then?” Steve says, and when he looks back at Eddie his eyes have narrowed.

Eddie opens his mouth and then clearly doesn’t know what to say. He glances at Nancy, helplessly, eyes asking for help―but Nancy can’t. Saying it in front of Eddie is hard enough, she can’t have this conversation with Steve present too. She just can’t.

The silence stretches on, before Steve scoffs. “Right, well. I’ll leave you both to it, then.” He places the six-pack on the ground, almost gently, and that catches in Nancy’s chest like a bullet. Even angry, Steve is gentle.

“Don’t go,” Eddie says, and his voice comes out desperate. When Nancy glances back at him he looks near tears. She still hasn’t said a word, but all her instincts are screaming at her that it isn’t her place to say anything, not here. That it would only make things worse than they clearly already are. 

Steve pauses, and drags a hand over his face slowly. When he drops it, he looks back at Eddie, and his eyes are sad.

“I can’t do this again,” he says, voice quiet, and then he’s leaving, door shutting quietly behind him.

The trailer is silent in his wake. Nancy hadn’t even noticed Eddie turning off his music, but its absence now feels deafening.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, quietly, and then, louder, “fuck! ” He kicks the corner of the couch harshly, and Nancy can’t help but flinch back. The movement clearly catches Eddie’s eyes, and when he looks at Nancy his expression is pained.

“Nance, just―fuck, just stay there,” he says, and then he dashes towards the door, and then Nancy is alone.

She hears the sound of a car engine starting up, and draws her knees up to her chest, hugging her arms around herself. She feels wrung out. As the silence stretches on, she replays the conversation in her head, the way Steve had zeroed in on Eddie, the way his distress clearly wasn’t aimed towards her. She replays all her previous conversations with Eddie where Steve has come up. She replays Steve, standing in her kitchen, watching Eddie from across the room. And okay―so, Eddie hadn’t told her, and it wasn’t like she’d been thinking in these terms before a few days ago―but my god, she’s an idiot.

It’s a couple of minutes before Eddie re-enters the trailer, and she can tell from his face that he didn’t manage to catch Steve before he left. His eyes are red.

Eddie closes the door softly behind him, and looks at Nancy warily, like he’s not sure whether or not he should bolt. It makes something ache in Nancy’s chest.

“How long have you two been together?” she says, keeping her voice soft, and Eddie visibly jolts, face tightening. “That’s what’s happening here, right? I’m clearly terrible at reading these things, but I haven’t misread this?”

Eddie’s smile is more of a grimace. “We, um. You’re not misreading it, but we’re also not together. We haven’t exactly―talked about things, yet.”

“But he was the not-date?” Nancy asks.

Eddie nods. “Yeah, he was the not-date.” His voice is so quiet Nancy has to strain to hear him. “Christ, Nance. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

If Nancy thinks about it, she is, on one level, upset that Eddie kept this from her. Or―hurt, perhaps, rather than upset. Steve is her ex-boyfriend, after all. And, beyond that, this, Eddie’s sexuality, is a big part of him, of his personality, and he’s been hiding it from her all this time. She gets why, she obviously gets why. But. She’s five-days or half-an-hour out from her own realisation, however you want to look at it, and here she is, attempting to share. It hurts, that Eddie hasn’t had that same impulse.

And, well. If she’s being really selfish, she thinks it might have sped up her own crisis, if she’d known about Eddie earlier.

Now isn’t the time for that, though. Now is the time for the other level, that bubbling feeling which started out small and is now spreading through her like wildfire―a feeling of relief.  Relief at not being alone, at having someone else who understands what she’s going through. Relief at Eddie being that someone.

She realises suddenly that there’s been a long stretch of silence, and that into that silence Eddie’s expression has dropped, looking crestfallen. She rushes to correct whatever he’s thinking.

“I like Robin,” Nancy blurts out, inelegantly. “In a romantic way, I mean. In the way you like Steve. That was―that’s what I wanted to tell you, before. That’s um, why I kissed you? Weirdly enough? I had a brief―I mean. I thought it made sense at the time. But, yeah. Turns out I definitely don’t want to kiss you, and I definitely do want to kiss Robin. So.”

She trails off, cringing.

Eddie’s mouth has gone slack. He’s blinking rapidly at her, like he has no idea what to say. Nancy stands up, and they look at each other silently for one second, two―before Eddie starts laughing, hands coming up to cover his face. It’s a high laugh, bordering on hysterical, not his usual cackle at all―but it’s a laugh all the same, and Nancy feels a giggle of her own bubbling its way up her throat in response. Something has come loose in her chest for the first time since she started crying, earlier―and god, that feels like a lifetime ago, what a mess of an evening this has been. 

They stand there across the room from each other laughing for a long time―until Eddie’s laughs start to sound more like tears from behind his hands. Nancy crosses the living room and touches his arm hesitantly, and when he shows his face she pulls him into a tight hug. 

“I can’t believe you have a crush on Robin,” he says into her shoulder. “How did I miss that.”

“How did I miss that you clearly had a crush on Steve all this time,” Nancy says back. “Oh my god, it’s so obvious in retrospect.”

“You can’t be mean to me while I’m sad,” Eddie says, his voice pouting, and Nancy smiles into his shoulder.

“This was not how I wanted this evening to go,” she says. Eddie snorts loudly.

“Yeah, no shit, Wheeler.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says, “for―for everything, for breaking down and for kissing you and for― for messing things up with Steve.”

Eddie draws back and smiles at her―shaky, but there. “Look,” he says. “Don’t―you don’t need to apologise for how you deal with something like this, okay? I mean, I will not lie, I never want you to kiss me again, but. It’s okay to freak out. I get it, I’ve been there.” Nancy feels her lip wobble at that, and she doesn’t agree, exactly, but she nods at him, because she thinks he wants an acknowledgement. “And Steve―I’m not upset with you about that, I’m upset with myself. But―that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how brave it was for you to tell me about Robin, okay? Nance, I’m so proud of you.”

Nancy feels her eyes fill with tears again―my god, will it ever stop ―and she nods again, her throat tight. Eddie closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, his expression is steadier.

“Okay,” he says, letting go of Nancy and clapping his hands together. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You go sit back down. I need to go call Robin―not about you, don’t look like that―so that she can check on Steve, okay? And then I’m going to make us a hot drink and we’re going to talk properly about this. About―all of it.”

Nancy takes a breath and nods. 

“Why did Steve react like that?” she asks, voice quiet. She thinks she knows, but the masochistic part of herself wants to hear it out loud.

The look Eddie gives her is almost pitying. “That’s a conversation you need to have with Steve,” he says softly. 

Nancy winces, and nods, accepting that. “Have I messed it up between you two?” she says.

Eddie grimaces. “Not just you, Nance. But um. I’m not sure, to be honest.” He smiles, or tries to, at least, and then retreats into his room.

Nancy sits back down on the corner of the couch. She’s exhausted, so tired she feels numb. She has no idea if the weed is still in her system, or if the adrenaline drove it out. Either way, she can say for certain that was not on her list of successfully executed plans.

She can’t quite believe it, about Eddie and Steve. Well, okay, Eddie in retrospect isn’t too much of a surprise. Steve is unexpected, however. Or is it? She doesn’t really know what to think, anymore.

What she does know is that she’s messed up―with Steve, with Eddie, probably with Robin too, let’s be honest, because if there ever was a chance with her, then kissing someone else and destroying the relationship of her best friend in the process will have nipped it in the bud, for sure.

She knows she’s messed up. And she’s determined to fix it.

Chapter Text

When Nancy wakes the next morning to sunlight direct in her eyes from open blinds, she immediately panics, a brief moment of where-am-I-what’s-going-on before the previous evening hits her all at once. She’s in Eddie’s room. She’s in Eddie’s room after insisting they get high and then crying and then kissing him and then Steve and then. 

She doesn’t remember falling asleep. A quick pat down reveals that she’s still in yesterday’s clothes, and Eddie himself is nowhere to be seen. When she stretches a hand out the sheets are cold. 

Nancy sits up, running a hand through her hair, which feels horrible and knotted. The door is closed, but she can hear the sound of clanging pans; someone pottering around in the kitchen. God, she hopes it’s Eddie and not Wayne. She doesn’t think she could face that this morning. 

If Eddie still wants to talk to her, that is, after yesterday.

She clambers out of bed and makes her way hesitantly into the living room. Lo and behold, Eddie is there, hair tied up in a bun and dressed as casually as Nancy had ever seen him. Were those sweatpants? And a black top, much baggier than his usual, and sleeves pulled up to the elbows. He’s got a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other, and Nancy watches as he clumsily manoeuvres a slightly charred pancake onto the second of two plates.

“Your stack is there,” he says, nodding his head at the other plate without looking at her. “I’ve set the table, got sugar and syrup and shit if that’s your bag.”

Nancy blinks at him, thrown. Did she—dream yesterday? But, no, it’s far too visceral to be a dream. She’s not sure what time it is, but it’s a Friday. They have school. She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Eddie cuts her off with a wry look.

“Take your damn plate and sit down, Wheeler. I’ll be over in a second.”

He looks away before she can reply, and she picks up her pancakes silently and moves over to the small table that splits the living area from the kitchen. There’s not only sugar, but an unevenly sliced lemon plus salt and pepper shakers. Nancy stares at the table, baffled, before shaking her head and reaching for the sugar and lemons.

When Eddie joins her a moment later he sits down with a slump and immediately grabs the salt, and that’s enough to pull Nancy out of her stupor.

“You put salt on your pancakes?!”

“You are in no position to judge me, Nancy Wheeler,” Eddie says, waving a fork in her direction as he digs in. Nancy scrunches her mouth up. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting,” he shoots back, and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Okay, what gives,” she says. “I—I don’t remember falling asleep last night. What are we doing? It’s—” she glances at the clock on the wall for the first time and her stomach drops. “Oh, crap, we’re going to be so late!”

“We’re not going to school today,” Eddie says between mouthfuls.

“Excuse me?”

“Nancy,” Eddie stops eating and looks at her. “Neither of us have a final today. It’s the Friday before our last week of school. There is nothing you can possibly cram at the library today that you don’t already know. We’re not going to school today.”

“Are you asking me to skip school?” Nancy says, bemused.

“No, I’m telling you that the two of us are skipping school,” Eddie says, and there’s a hint of a smile on his face. There are bags under his eyes, and his face looks puffy and tired. “We have—a lot to talk about.”

And as much as Nancy would rather just go about her day as if nothing happened, push the whole mess of yesterday to the back of her mind and ignore it, she knows that’s the wrong thing to do. Taking a breath, she nods.

“Yeah, okay,” she says heavily, and cuts into her pancakes. They eat in silence for a moment and Nancy watches him and the way the smile drops off his face when he thinks Nancy isn’t looking. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

Eddie shakes his head, raising a hand to stop her. “We did that yesterday. Look, Nance. Did you deal with things particularly well yesterday? No. But you’re allowed to mess up. And if I’d just—told you, about Steve, then none of this would have happened.” 

He breaks off and looks away, frustrated, and Nancy knows that frustration is directed solely at himself. She reaches out and squeezes his hand over the table, gently. It was a delicate thing, this new information they held over each other, and Nancy felt a bit adrift about where to tread. 

The thing is, Nancy had never really thought about gay people until recently. She knew they existed, of course, but they felt so far outside of her own existence; something reserved for celebrity scandals and big cities. It wasn’t that she’d ever had a problem with idea of gay people existing—that would be ridiculous—it’s just that she’d never had to think about it in relation to her own life before. And despite now knowing that she also fell in some way into that—category? community?—she didn’t want to get anything wrong.

“Do you—um,” Nancy starts, and then breaks off. “Do you want to tell me about it now?”

Eddie squeezes her hand back, his eyes soft. “Yeah, I really would,” he says, gently.

He watches her for a second, gaze warm, before abruptly pushing himself back on his chair, balancing the front two legs in the air  and clapping his hands together loudly. The switch into Performer Eddie is so quick it gives Nancy whiplash.

“So! Let’s set the scene. We have young Eddie Munson in his first go-around at senior year, suffering his way through mandatory gym credit at the mercy of the gods of obligatory education.” Nancy rolls her eyes but settles back into her own seat, pancakes forgotten. “Picture our good Steve Harrington, a junior at this point, right in the heyday of all his jock glory—this was before you got your hands on him and gave him a conscience, of course. Christ, he was such an asshole back then.”

Nancy snorts. “Was that the appeal, then?” 

It’s weird, thinking back to when she first met Steve. She doesn’t remember him the way Robin and Eddie clearly do—the way Barb did. Apart from that one time with Jonathan, she doesn’t remember seeing him antagonise anyone. She’s not sure if this is her patchy memory, or if Steve just made sure to be on his best behaviour around her, but. Another sign of her own obliviousness, she figures.

Eddie smiles wryly. “Nah. Well, I mean, there is something, isn’t there? About someone that untouchable. Come on, you must have thought so too, why else would you have gone for him back then?” 

“I’m choosing not to answer that.”

“Sure thing, Wheeler.”

“Eddie.”

“Nancy,” Eddie mocks, and sticks his tongue out when Nancy pulls a face at him. “Anyway! So, we’re in this mixed class, and we’re playing dodgeball, juniors versus seniors—and Harrington’s just all over us, wiping the floor clean. A truly embarrassing feat, and this is coming from someone with zero interest in balls outside the bedroom—don’t pull that face, Wheeler.”

“Thanks for that delightful image.”

“You love me. So, Hagan gets cocky even though he’s contributing, like, zero to the cause, and I pipe up, because I’ve never looked a bad idea in the eye and said no, and one thing leads to another and next thing I know I’m the one being held back to pack up even though he was the one who literally had me on the floor a moment earlier. The injustice, Nance, I swear to god!” Nancy snorts.

“And Harrington, he just. Well. He stayed back and helped. Didn’t say much of anything about it, and, I mean, it wasn’t like he was even involved, but I always figured it was an acknowledgement. You know? That Hagan was in the wrong, not me.”

There’s a little smile twisting around the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and Nancy feels her chest warm at the sight of it. “We just packed up the balls in silence and went our separate ways, but it stuck with me. And I just, noticed him, I guess, from then on? How he always stood back when Hagan went too far. Crafted this narrative for myself that he was a jock with a heart of gold.” Eddie snorted. “I mean, I didn’t think I’d be right, it was just a stupid fantasy. But, I mean. Couldn’t have predicted anything that’s happened this year.”

Nancy hums in agreement. “That’s strangely sweet,” she says. And it was—although strangely sad, too; the idea of Eddie watching Steve for years, watching him with her, on the outside while neither of them even noticed him. Her stomach feels heavy.

“So, what you’re really saying is you staked your claim first,” she jokes, trying to push the thought out of her head.

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Only me and all the chicks at Hawkins High,” he agrees. “Well, most chicks, anyway.” 

And that was cryptic.

“And then?” Nancy says. “How did you go from that to—whatever was going on last night?”

Eddie sighs. “Honestly, Nance, I don’t even know what we’re doing. He just—started showing up when I got out of hospital and then never left. I couldn’t figure it out, what he was getting out of it.” His cheeks colour. “And I tried to stop myself, I swear I did, but I’d always had this bit of a thing for him when I thought he was a dick and now he’s just—he’s so much. He’s thoughtful and perceptive and sweet and, yeah, still a bit of an entitled asshole, but now it’s, like, endearing. It’s awful.” 

“Oh, woe is you,” Nancy snorts, and then softens. “You really like him, huh?”

Eddie winces. “I’m a bit beyond like, Nance.”

And that was. Surprising. Nancy had dated Steve for a year and it had taken her months and months to say ‘I love you’, and even then, she always had that niggling thought that something wasn’t right. Honestly, at this point, she isn’t sure she knows what it means to be in love. She’s never been sure.

Eddie seems sure.

“Are you mad at me?” Eddie says into the silence, and his voice is small.

“Eddie, no!” Nancy rushes to say. “I’m happy for you. I meant what I said yesterday, you deserve to be happy. I—I wish you’d said something earlier, but because of you, not Steve.”

“Sorry I didn’t,” Eddie says, still quiet. “I knew you wouldn’t be an asshole, I think. Or, I knew rationally. It’s just scary. And it was Steve. Honestly, I’m not fully convinced he’s over you, especially not after yesterday. And you were so tight-lipped about what you were feeling. Felt a bit like I was getting in the middle of your grand tragic love story.”

“Trust me, I saw the way he looked at you yesterday, and I can promise you he doesn’t still have feelings for me,” Nancy says. “He barely spared me a glance, Eddie. I know that look. I—um, I’ve caused that look, before,” she winces.

Eddie doesn’t look reassured, but he does nod.

“So, you haven’t told him? How you feel?”

“I mean, up until two weeks ago I was operating under the assumption that he was incredibly straight!” Eddie says, slightly manically. “And then he just—kissed me. Out of the blue!  And since then we’ve been. I don’t know. Hooking up, I guess? Neither of us have really talked about it. I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know?”

“That is so dumb,” Nancy says. “Truly a terrible idea.”

“Please tell me you are not lecturing me on healthy communication,” Eddie says with a huff.

“Well, we’re healthily communicating right now, aren’t we?” Nancy says back, and then can’t resist adding, “and besides, if I’d known you were… gay, that you like boys, or whatever, then maybe I’d have healthily communicated sooner.”

“That—is fair,” Eddie says. “And. It’s gay. Always been guys, for me. Just to make my life even easier, you know?” His smile is twisted.

Nancy snorts suddenly. “Oh god. And here I was thinking you had feelings for Chrissy.”

She immediately regrets saying her name, but Eddie passes it off with a laugh. “Fucking hell, Wheeler, you really are oblivious.”

“Tell me about it,” Nancy says.

“So,” Eddie draws the word out. “Can we talk about your big gay crush on Robin, yet? Or, you know, your big bi crush?”

“Oh!” Nancy says. And, okay. She has heard of bisexuality before; she listens to Bowie, she’s not completely oblivious. But she just. Hadn’t particularly connected that knowledge with her own situation. 

It—wasn’t a lightbulb. Not exactly. But it was something.

“We can talk about my as-yet-undetermined crush on Robin?” Nancy says, face screwed up. “I—I mean,” she lets her breath out slowly. “Honestly, Eddie, I don’t really know what I’m feeling. I know I like her. I know I want to, you know, kiss her, and stuff.” She blushes, and refuses to meet Eddie’s smirk at that. “But now I’m just reevaluating everything—Steve, and Jonathan, and whether I’ve felt like this before about anyone else and just not realised it. It’s all a lot.”

Eddie nods sympathetically. “It is a lot. And you don’t need to know for sure or have it all figured out straight away. That’s okay! And I’m here, okay? Whatever happens with Robin, you’ve got me. Although,” he hesitates, and then smiles at her enigmatically. “I wouldn’t count her out.”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asks, and when Eddie only zips his lips she rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Can’t think of any better way to get on Robin’s bad side than hurting Steve, and I’ve got top marks in that particular subject.”

When Eddie stayed suspiciously quiet at that, Nancy narrows her eyes at him. “What?”

He sighs. “Okay, so last night, after you conked out on the couch and I got you into bed, I tried to go see Steve, talk it out. He wasn’t home. Which means…”

“He crashed at Robin’s,” Nancy finishes. Well. That’s that.

“This is pretty messed up, huh?” Eddie says with a bitter smile. “How the fuck do we fix this?”

“I should talk to Steve,” Nancy says. “I can tell him about me, explain what actually happened yesterday—” she stops, Eddie already shaking his head.

“I love you, Nance, but no,” he says. “I need to talk to Steve myself, that’s not for you to fix. I just. I’m sorry, and this isn’t really for me to say, but if Steve was going to catch me in a vaguely-ambiguously-compromising position with anyone I can’t think of anything worse than it being with you. He—he’s told me—” Eddie breaks off. “I just mean I don’t have high hopes.”

He looks down, clearly putting on a brave face for her but miserable, and Nancy feels horrible. She doesn’t quite understand, but she knows not to press—not with Eddie, anyway. But she can’t stand the thought that she’s ruined this for him—for them both—before it had even started.

“You have to tell Steve how you feel,” Nancy says, leaning forward and grasping Eddie’s knee until he looks up and meets her eyes. “If there’s anything that I know about Steve it’s that he, well. He wants commitment. I bet he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t know if you’re on the same page as him.”

Eddie scoffs at that, but Nancy presses on. “Come on, I know it’s scary. I know it’s scary. But you’ll never know unless you try.”

Eddie groans. “If I tell Steve how I feel, will you tell Robin?”

Fuck it. “Yes,” Nancy says, firmly. “And, actually. I have an idea about that.”

She smiles widely, the idea developing in her head as she speaks. Eddie looks at her warily, before leaning forwards too. “Okay, Wheeler. I’m listening.”

When Nancy arrives at Family Video in time for the evening shift she is, suffice it to say, an anxious mess. Her palms are clammy and she can feel sweat gathering at the back of her neck and the base of her spine. She feels cold inside, and honest to god shaky. Nancy has never been one to get overly anxious—even during each go around with the Upside Down she’d managed to stay in Controlled Leader Mode up until the inevitable shift into panic. So this feeling of low-level but persistent distress was a new one. 

She hates it.

Nancy gathers herself and pushes the door open with a deep breath; there’s an answering ring of the bell above her head. If they’ve timed this right—and please say they’ve timed this right—then the only person on shift should be— 

“Oh. Nancy?”

Nancy winces at the sound of Robin’s voice. She shuts the door gently behind her and makes her way over to the counter where Robin is standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. It’s such a contrast to the way Robin usually greets her that for a moment Nancy wants to cry.

“Hey, Robin,” Nancy says, mustering up a smile.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, and her voice is unfriendly. “If you’re looking for Steve, he’s on break. And I wouldn’t, if I were you. I don’t think he wants to talk to you right now.”

“Right, good!” Nancy says, her shoulders relaxing with the confirmation that Steve isn’t about to appear from behind the counter. “That’s good.”

“Wait. What’s good?”

“That Steve is on break,” Nancy says. “Actually, um. He’s probably not coming back. Or, hopefully, anyway. So, you have me instead!”

Robin stares at her, eyes wide in clear bemusement. She’s wearing a buttoned up shirt and tie under her Family Video vest, shirt tucked into her trousers, and, oh. She looks good. She looks—hot. Does Robin usually look hot? Has Nancy just never noticed that Robin is hot before? It—it just, really suits her. The outfit, that is. Jesus Christ. Why has Nancy never visited before?

“Sorry, I’m lost. What are you talking about?” Robin cuts into the panicked chaos of Nancy’s brain function.

“Eddie’s currently on his way to Steve’s ‘secret break spot’,” Nancy says, using her hands as quotes and trying to get herself back on track. He wouldn’t tell her where the break spot was, which. Honestly, fair. “And if all goes to plan he’s going to be borrowing him for this evening to talk. To explain what happened yesterday from our side and clear everything up.”

Robin makes a frustrated noise. “And this was your idea, was it?” When Nancy nods, she sighs heavily. “Nance, you can’t just mess people around like this. Maybe Steve wants space for today, did you think about that? And, and—what, you’re just going to fill in for him? Have you ever worked in customer service before? Do you even know how to operate a till?” Her hand moves to her hair, gripping it tightly. Nancy steps forward, alarmed, but Robin waves her away, backing up. “It’s fine, I’m fine. You just. Need to think about how your schemes will affect other people, okay? I work here too.”

“Robin,” Nancy says, and she knows her voice comes out wounded, but she can’t help it. She feels horrible. But also. She didn’t realise Robin thought of her in that way. As someone scheming, manipulative. It sits heavy in her stomach. “I’m so sorry. We—I—didn’t mean to make your evening more difficult. I just wanted to make things right. For Steve, as well as for Eddie. I, um. Really messed things up.”

She feels her eyes begin to well up and turns her face to the side sharply.

The store is silent for an excruciating few seconds, before Robin sighs again—more gently this time.

“Well, you may as well get behind the counter then. I can give you a quick demo while it’s empty.”

Nancy looks back at Robin, whose expression has softened. It isn’t her usual smile, but Nancy will take it. She musters up a smile herself—watery—and ducks under the counter.

Robin spends the next five minutes talking Nancy through the till operation—which, okay, so she’s never worked in customer service before but this seems like pretty simple stuff. Or, she thinks so until her first customer comes to ring up an order and she immediately messes up. The wrong total is showing, she doesn’t know how to go back and correct her error, and she ends up jamming the whole system. She ends up calling Robin over for help with a burning face.

“Okay, I’ll work the counter and you return these used tapes. Make sure you check them first and re-wind anything that needs re-winding. You’d be surprised how many people fail to follow simple instructions,” Robin’s voice is dry and Nancy coughs, looking down. Right. Filing. Well, she’s used to that at least.

Nancy settles in to sorting the tapes and it’s nice, actually, helps calm her brain. Steve hasn’t returned yet which she assumes means that Eddie is making progress. That’s something, at least. She watches Robin from behind the shelves, how she smiles brightly at each customer only for her whole body to sag as soon as the store is empty. 

“Do you like working here?” Nancy asks after a long stretch of working in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but Nancy can tell that Robin doesn’t really want to talk to her, or, not about Steve, at least.

“Do I… like it?” Robin says, her voice baffled. “Um. Not exactly.” There’s a pause. “I mean. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Nancy says, drifting closer to the counter but keeping her distance.

“Oh, um,” Robin pauses, as if she hadn’t expected Nancy to enquire further. “Well, it’s exhausting. Talking to strangers all day, having to be bright and smiley and polite. Steve’s so good at that kind of thing, it just comes so easy to him and doesn’t take any effort, but I find it really hard. Like I’m—putting on a mask, or something. But I also like the repetition of it—once you’ve learnt all the rules and systems it’s easy, you know? It’s soothing, especially after the chaos of school. Helps my brain stay quiet. So. Yes and no, I guess. That probably sounds dumb.”

“Not at all!” Nancy says quickly.  Robin meets her eyes, and she looks embarrassed, as if she hadn’t meant to say that much. Nancy rushes to reassure her. “I get that, honestly. When I was interning at the Hawkins Post they made me do a lot of filing, and it was so frustrating. I wanted to be doing so much more. But, I didn’t hate the filing itself… it was more about the principle of the matter.” She feels her cheeks warm. “In retrospect I was a bit bullheaded about the whole thing.”

“Bullheaded, you?” Robin says with huff of a laugh, but her gaze has softened, and Nancy feels confident enough to lean against the counter. 

“I mean, it isn’t what I want to be doing forever,” she continues, looking down at the till. “But it suits me for right now. Especially with—everything else that’s happened. It’s steady.”

“That sounds nice,” Nancy says, and she can hear the longing in her own voice.

Robin laughs. “You don’t have to lie. I’m not like you, with your journalism. You’re going to change the world, Nance.” Nancy’s face must have flickered, then, because Robin frowns suddenly. “What’s wrong?”

And, okay, this wasn’t what Nancy thought she’d be talking about today, but. “I don’t know if I want to go to college,” she confesses, finally, her voice small. “Not yet. Journalism… I love it, I know it’s what I want to do eventually. But it feels so tied up with—everything. You know I only became interested in journalism in the first place after looking into proving Barb’s death with Jonathan? And then—working for the paper, it just made sense, in case something else happened.” Robin makes a small noise, her eyebrows furrowed. “And now it’s all over I’m just struggling to separate it all. The thought of leaving Hawkins, alone, in the fall, is just. I don’t know if I can do it.” 

Nancy’s face is hot with embarrassment by the time she finishes talking.

“Nance,” Robin says, and all hostility has disappeared from her posture. “You know you don’t have to, right? You’re allowed to take a beat, and to figure out if it’s what you really want.”

“I just,” Nancy bursts out. “I feel like everyone has these expectations of me, of the kind of person I am. And I—I don’t want to let anyone down.”

She blinks rapidly, trying to will away tears. And maybe she’s not only talking about journalism anymore.

Robin makes that noise again, soft and sympathetic. She moves closer to Nancy, and doesn’t offer to hug her—which, honestly, Nancy isn’t sure she could have dealt with anyway—but she does reach out a hand to rub at Nancy’s shoulder. It’s a little awkward, but it’s very Robin, and the contact helps.

“I’m sorry,” Robin says softly. “I didn’t mean to add to that. And Nance, honestly? Fuck them. Fuck those expectations.”

“What?” Nancy says, laughing a bit wetly.

“Seriously. You want to take some time to recover from the ridiculously traumatic experience we’ve all just gone through? No shit, that sounds sensible. You want to try another job first to make sure that journalism is what you actually want, separate from Barb? Do it. You want to… I don’t know, run away with Eddie Munson and start a metal band? I’ll be there in the front row.”

Nancy laughs, properly this time, and Robin smiles back at her, bright and lovely. Nancy feels warm all over.

“Thank you, seriously,” she says. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

“Hey, we can muddle it out together, okay?” Robin says, and she’s close enough now that she can nudge her shoulder against Nancy’s over the counter.

“Well, no metal bands for me, I know that much,” Nancy is smiling now. “Think Eddie has reason enough to be sticking around here for a while.”

“God, I hope so,” Robin says with a groan. “I am so sick of Steve’s pining, I swear to god.” Then she stiffens, as if remembering who she’s talking to.

Nancy straightens up. “Um. Can we talk about it now?”

Robin’s face is unreadable as she straightens up too, but after a short silence she nods too. “Guess we should. I mean, no sign of Steve yet which is either a very good or very bad sign.”

“Good, I hope,” Nancy says, and Robin’s eyes narrow at that.

“Okay, so,” she pauses, visibly hesitating. “You know? About Steve and Eddie?”

“As of last night,” Nancy says, feeling her cheeks redden. “I was a bit oblivious up until then. And, um. I only know it from Eddie’s side.”

Robin hums at that. “And you don’t—I mean. Steve said—”

“Oh!” Nancy’s voice is louder than she intended, and they both wince. “Sorry, but. God, no. No. It was all a big misunderstanding. I love Eddie, he’s—actually, I think he’s my best friend. But he’s very much not my type.”

She tries to inject as much emphasis into that as possible, but Robin doesn’t react—she’s too busy slumping in relief.

“Oh, thank fuck,” she said. “I said to Steve he was probably reading it wrong.”

“Honestly, Robin, I was having a bit of a crisis, I’d basically just finished crying when Steve walked in,” Nancy says earnestly. “Absolutely zero going on between us.”

“Oh, I knew that,” Robin says. “I mean, have you met Eddie? He’s gay as a two-dollar bill. But—I wasn’t sure from your side.”

“So you knew, already?” Nancy says. “About both of them?”

“Only from Steve’s side,” Robin says, and Nancy feels pathetically reassured that Eddie hadn’t gone to Robin over her. “But Eddie’s crush on Steve is obvious from space, when you know what to look for.”

When you know what to look for. Nancy files that away for later.

“You know,” Robin continues, “Steve knows that it’s just guys for Eddie, too. Rationally he knows nothing was going on. He’s just—he has trust issues. Which Eddie knows. So. I think that’s why it hurt.”

Nancy swallows. “Are—does he have trust issues because of me?”

Robin’s eyebrows furrow, and Nancy recognises the pity within them. “Are you sure you want me to answer that, Nance?”

Nancy sighs. “You know, I’ve had a lot of realisations over the past week.” Robin raises her eyebrows at that, but Nancy ploughs forward, not quite ready for that conversation. Not yet. “One of which being that I really haven’t treated Steve very well, have I?”

Robin hums again. “Think that’s something you and Steve need to talk about,” she says, gently. “I think he’d be open to it, if that helps? Once this stuff with Eddie has quietened down. I think he’d really like you to be friends.”

There’s a pause, before Robin carries on, her voice determined.

“You know, I’ve never really had a lot of friends. And I know it’s silly, because we were literally in a hell dimension trying to save the world, but. I really thought the four of us were good together, you know? Thought we’d make a nice little group.”

Nancy’s chest hurts. “I’m sorry. I really messed that up, didn’t I?”

Robin snorts. “You don’t have to take ownership for everything now you’ve started, Nance. This is definitely on all of us. But. I don’t know. I’d still like that to happen, if it can?”

“I really would too,” Nancy says, and she’s shocked at how much that’s true. 

They work the rest of the shift in comfortable silence, broken by the occasional exchange, and Robin is right. It is soothing. Steve never returns, and Nancy is desperate to know how it went, but Eddie is right. This isn’t for her to fix.

She drops Robin home after they close, and thanks her as she gets out of the car.

Robin’s face has returned to be being annoyingly unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me, Nance. I’m sorry I jumped to some conclusions back there, about you.”

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” Nancy reassures her. Yet still, Robin has that look on her face.

“I’m here, if you want to talk about anything,” she says finally. “About—college, or, whatever, really. You don’t have to shoulder stuff alone, okay?”

Nancy’s throat feels tight. “Thank you. I mean that. Can we—um. Can we hang out again soon?”

It’s dark outside, but she thinks she sees Robin’s cheeks darken, and something in her chest loosens at the sight of it.

“Anytime, Nance.”

The weekend passes quietly and Nancy is going out of her mind waiting to hear from Eddie. And, okay, she can understand him not calling on Friday evening, but she’d expected an update on Saturday at least. She doesn’t know what it means that she hasn’t heard anything.

Part of her thinks this must be a good sign, that he and Steve are so caught up in each other that they haven’t thought about her—which stings a little bit, but that’s for her to deal with, not them—but part of her. Well, part of her is worried that Steve is so mad at her that he’s convinced Eddie to stop talking to her altogether. 

She contemplates calling Robin but decides against it; feels like she’s hovering in stasis.

She even resorts to asking Mike if he has any D&D plans with Eddie that may be keeping him busy, but he just gives her a weird look and says that he has a date with El that evening. Great. Her little brother has a more thriving social life than she does.

By the time the doorbell rings on Sunday afternoon Nancy feels on high alert; she jumps at the sound of the bell ringing and dashes to answer before anyone else can. Even though she was half-hoping for it, it’s a surprise to find Eddie at the door, dressed in his full battle vest and bandana look and smiling at her sheepishly.

Eddie has never come to the Wheeler household without the crutch of D&D and he looks a little odd against the backdrop of her parents’ neatly trimmed lawn, but to Nancy he’s a sight for sore eyes. She throws her arms around him and he stumbles backwards with a huff of surprise, arms resting gently against her back. 

“You couldn’t have called sooner?!” Nancy cries, pulling back and punching him on the shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worrying.”

“Sorry, Wheeler. I’ve—been busy,” he says, a big stupid grin on his face, and Nancy feels her whole body relax.

“Did you tell him, then?” Nancy asks, feeling like a small child with how eager she is, and Eddie shushes her with a glance back into her hallway.

“I’ll tell you on route. We’re going out,” he says, and nods towards his van, clumsily parked against Nancy’s drive. Nancy yells out a good bye behind her and follows him curiously.

“Out where?” she says.

“Patience, my young padawan.” 

Eddie opens the passenger door for her with a flourish and she rolls her eyes as she climbs in. “You’re so annoying.”

“I live to please,” he says with a big grin.

“Okay, wait, don’t start the van yet,” Nancy says, holding a hand up. “I can feel the happiness rolling off you in waves, come on. Put me out of my misery.”

Eddie laughs at that, a bright, childish sound, and Nancy’s heart swells. She thought she’d seen him happy before, but she’d never seen him this—giddy with it.

“Your plan was a roaring success, Wheeler,” he says, his voice softening as he talks. “Spent Friday and all of yesterday with him, we’ve talked it all out.” His cheeks coloured. “Told him about my giant embarrassing crush, or whatever. And we’re—official, I guess. I have a boyfriend!” He laughs again, a barking, disbelieving sound, and Nancy finds herself grinning back.

“I’m so happy for you!” she says, and is relieved to find that’s the truth. Eddie pulls out of the driveway and grins back at her as he does so.

“Me too,” he says. “Honestly, I feel a bit like this isn’t real. Like it’s going to be taken away from me.”

“No one is going to take it away from you,” Nancy says firmly. “They’ll have to go through me first.”

“Don’t I know it,” Eddie says with a huff of a laugh. “Nance. Thanks for pushing me.”

“And—Thursday?” Nancy asks, more tentatively.

Eddie’s smile becomes more wry. “He’s still upset that it happened like that. But, I mean. Nothing was going on, and I think he knew that, really. It’s more—he didn’t realise how difficult I was finding it juggling the two of you, and he took it as me forgetting about him, or, you know, not prioritising him.” Nancy winces at that. “Which, yeah. Not a great look for me, especially given Steve’s—you know,” he waves a hand, Nancy guesses to indicate ‘parental and past-relationship trauma’, and she sighs.

“Does he hate me?”

Eddie looks at her sideways. “No. But—you can just ask him yourself.”

“What—?” Nancy zones in on her surroundings as Eddie makes a left onto the high street, and she watches with looming distress as he pulls into a parking space outside Family Video. 

“What are we doing here?” she hisses.

Eddie turns the ignition off and both his hands return to the wheel, tapping restlessly. “Sorry to ambush you, really. But, Steve and Robin are finishing up their shift now. Me and Robin are going for milkshakes and you and Steve are going to talk, for Christ’s sake.”

“Eddie!” Nancy knows her voice is raised, but she can’t help it. “But I—I don’t have a plan, you haven’t given me time to prepare—”

“That’s the idea, Wheeler,” Eddie says, and he sounds brazen, but Nancy can tell by the stiff way that he’s holding his body that he’s nervous about her reaction. 

Nancy glances at the door of Family Video, and she can already see Steve and Robin hovering in the doorway, talking together as they lock up. They haven’t clocked the van yet, and Nancy feels her pulse skyrocket.

“God, I hate you so much,” her voice comes out in a low whine, and Eddie snorts. “Okay, fine. But this is your funeral if it goes wrong!”

“Please don’t make my hot new boyfriend sad, m’kay?” Eddie says with an honest to god smirk, as he jumps out of the door and leaves her, bounding over to great the others.

Nancy follows more warily, shutting the door gently behind her. Robin gives her an overly enthusiastic wave as they look eyes—okay, so she was clearly in on it too—but when Steve sees her his expression freezes. Okay. At least she isn’t alone in this ambush.

“Okay, me and Eddie are going now, bye have fun love you,” Robin blurts out, pulling Eddie back towards the van as he cackles behind her. Nancy watches him turn back and look at Steve before he climbs in, the way his expression smooths out and softens. He waves, gently, and Steve makes a soft sound and raises a hand back, and god, Nancy is sick with envy. Then she looks at Robin, who mouths “I’m sorry” from the passenger seats and raises both hands in a dorky thumbs up, and she feels herself grinning despite herself.

Then Eddie backs out of the parking space, and she and Steve are alone.

It’s silent for a few excruciating seconds, before Steve draws out a, “so…”

“Hi?” Nancy says, making it a question. “Um. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, me neither,” Steve says, pressing a hand to his face. He’s wearing one of his dorky polo shirts beneath his uniform, and Nancy feels horrible for thinking that the green looks so much better on Robin. Not that Steve doesn’t look good, of course—he always does—but any lingering attraction leftover from Spring Break has been solidly redirected towards his best friend. And god. They really are all a bit messed up, aren’t they?

“Is it bad that I’m glad you’re stumped too?” Steve says with a rueful grin. “I was wondering if this was one of your schemes.”

“Why does everyone think I have schemes?” Nancy bursts out. “I plan, I don’t scheme. There’s a difference!”

“Whoa, okay,” Steve says, hands out. “Whatever you say, Nance.”

Nancy smiles at the nickname. “We should—probably go somewhere else to talk, right? Somewhere private?”

“Right, right,” Steve says. “Um. I’d say we could go to mine, but. A neutral space is probably better, right? I know you hate it there.”

Nancy’s eyebrows raise sharply. She hadn’t realised that Steve knew she didn’t like spending time at the Harrington’s—she’d tried, but just couldn’t separate it in her head from the place Barb died. She just assumed he wouldn’t have picked up on it. And Jesus, would a day go by without being hit over the head with another way she treated Steve badly? 

“We could go back to mine, but my parents are in,” Nancy says, and Steve winces. “Um. Oh! What about the diner, the one off Mulberry and Oak? With the—”

“Jesus, yeah, those awful burgers,” Steve laughs loud. “Remember I took you there—”

“Right when we first started dating, yeah, you said it would be romantic—”

“I thought it would be! Tommy recommended it! I mean, in retrospect that should have been the first sign it was a dive, but—”

“I loved it,” Nancy says firmly. “That was—a really lovely date.”

She can barely remember what she was like back then. Before Barb died. God, everything seemed so simple. Steve is clearly thinking the same thing, his smile turning sad around the corners. 

“Maybe you could take Eddie there?” Nancy suggests with a small grin to lighten the mood, and when Steve instantly blushes deeply red she laughs and sets off towards his car. 

This is—okay. She could do this.

Once they’ve arrived though, and tucked themselves away in a corner booth, she feels her confidence leach out of her. She opens her mouth, not sure what she’s going to say but wanting to stop the silence sliding from comfortable into awkward, but then shuts it again with a snap as a waitress approaches. Steve rattles off their orders before Nancy has to make a decision, which she’s grateful for, but as the waitress walks away Steve suddenly looks stricken.

“Oh, shit, I just ordered for you—I know you hated it when I did that—”

“It’s honestly fine,” Nancy says, smiling softly at his contrite look. “We’re not here to pick at all the things that didn’t work when we dated. And besides, you occasionally ordering for me is pretty low in the rankings.”

She means it as a joke, but Steve’s gaze immediately shutters. Nancy falters, unsure what she said wrong, but takes a breath and figures she should dive right in.

“Look, Steve,” she says, “I’m just so sorry, about so many things I don’t know where to start.” 

Steve, who had been holding his body tight, jolts visibly at that, as if he wasn’t expecting it. Nancy huffs a laugh to herself, awkwardly.

“I don’t know exactly what Eddie’s said about Thursday—”

“Just that I misread it, that you were upset,” Steve interrupts with a small frown, and Nancy nods. She doesn’t know why she’s relieved that Eddie didn’t tell Steve about Robin—of course he wouldn’t—but she is. She wants that to come from her.

“Right, yes,” Nancy says. “But I’m sorry for getting in the middle of you two anyway. And, um. I’m really sorry about Spring Break. Things were difficult with Jonathan and I was upset, and then you were there and it was so comforting to fall back into old habits. I think for both of us? But I should have addressed it straight away when Jonathan came back and I never should have gone silent on you for that long.”

Steve is looking at her softly now, his face amused. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologise like that,” he says, “Eddie really has done a number on you, hasn’t he?”

“Shut up, I’m not finished,” Nancy says primly, and Steve snorts. 

“I also just wanted to apologise for—well, the way I acted, when we were together. I, honestly, think we’d have fallen apart even without Barb and everything that came after it. I wasn’t ready to be vulnerable with you, wasn’t ready for the level of commitment that you wanted, and it made me lash out and pull away. I think we just… want very different things.”

“You mean you don’t want six kids and a Winnebago,” Steve says dryly, and Nancy bursts out laughing.

“God, sorry, I shouldn’t laugh—”

“Oh, no, you definitely should,” Steve says, his face red. “I really don’t know where I was going with that one. Call it heat of the moment. And really, it’s not like that’s a surprise. You were alway set for bigger things. And, um,” Steve chuckles awkwardly, “I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend.”

Nancy frowns. “Steve, you were a great boyfriend. That wasn’t the issue. I’m the one who wasn’t the best girlfriend—I mean, I literally ran off with Jonathan without even telling you. Twice! You were not the one at fault.”

“But, um,” Steve says, his hands twisting together, and Nancy is realising that while this all feels like a distant memory for her, there’s something here that’s clearly still fresh for Steve. “When we had that fight, you know, at Tina’s party? You said—about our relationship, that it was bullshit? And that you never loved me? I thought—”

Nancy’s stomach drops to the floor. “Steve, please don’t tell me you’ve been thinking about that for two years.”

Steve shrugs unhappily, and Nancy feels like the worst person in the world. She can barely remember the argument he’s talking about—only heard it after the fact from Steve himself. She was drunk! Anything she said was in the heat of the moment, definitely not anything to take to heart! God, if she’d only known…

“Steve,” she says, “I don’t remember most of that evening, and I don’t remember saying that to you. I didn’t mean it, at all. I was just angry that you weren’t taking me seriously, and I took it out on you.”

Steve’s eyes look suspiciously wet, his shoulders hunched, and Nancy reaches out a hand to grasp his across the table. 

“Listen to me,” she says, “I cared about you so much. I—I still do, as much as I haven’t been good at showing it. My inability to know whether or not I was in love is on me, and not you. And that’s—only gotten more complicated lately, believe it or not.” She meets Steve’s eyes across the table and holds his gaze, ducking her head at him. “Please know that you were not a bad boyfriend. And. I really hope you’ve found someone who can love you back the way you deserve.”

“Fuck,” Steve says, pulling his hand away to bring it to his eyes, digging his thumbs into the sockets and letting out a watery chuckle. “Sorry, um.” He lets out a couple of big sniffs, and Nancy pulls her hands back, worrying at her lip as she watches him regain composure. He drags a hand down his face and meets her eyes again with a rueful grin. They’re only slightly red. “Thank you. I mean it.”

“Sorry I didn’t say it back then,” Nancy says quietly. “I’m really sorry, Steve.”

Steve’s already shaking his head. “We had bigger fish to fry, it’s okay. And, like. I should have listened to how you were feeling about Barb. I wanted to block it all out and be normal teenagers or whatever,” he snorts, and it’s bitter, and clearly directed inwardly, “and that was so dumb. If it wasn’t for you and Henderson I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

“Less traumatised, probably,” Nancy offers, and Steve laughs at that.

“Yeah, probably. Wouldn’t have Robin though,” he adds, fond look on his face that Nancy can’t help but smile at.

“Or Eddie,” she says pointedly, and Steve colours again.

They’re interrupted by the arrival of their burgers, and take a moment to poke around at the colourless meat. Nancy jokes that it’s probably horse, Steve offers demogorgan up as an alternative, and they laugh, and it feels the closest to normal that they’ve felt in years.

“So,” Steve says, once they’ve both dug into the side salad and chips. “Um. You know about me and Eddie. Obviously, I mean, of course you do, Eddie said he told you. But, um. Is that, I mean—”

“Steve,” Nancy says patiently.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve shakes his head. “I’ve only done this with Robin and that was way easier, obviously.” 

Steve’s face does a weird thing, then, freezes slightly before immediately smoothing over. Nancy blinks, but he’s already back to looking awkward and nervous. 

“I’m bisexual,” Steve says, and it’s quiet, but he says it firmly, with a hesitant smile. “And I want you to know that firstly because I hope we can, you know, hang out more, after this. Find some kind of friendship. But also because I want you know it doesn’t affect how I felt about you.”

“Steve, I didn’t think it did for a minute,” Nancy says, and her heart is swelling with pride. “And thank you for telling me, officially. I’m so happy for you. Eddie is—just, his friendship has meant so much to me. I’m so glad he’s in our lives.”

“Same,” Steve says, with feeling. Then: “and you’re sure you don’t mind? I get that it’s a bit weird to hear—”

“I have a crush on Robin,” Nancy blurts out, and Steve falls silent at that.

“Wait, what?” he says, and his voice betrays nothing but shock,

“Ugh,” Nancy says, feeling her face heat. “I didn’t mean to say it like that or interrupt your big speech. But, um. Basically. I really really don’t mind. And, same, I guess?”

There’s a solid few seconds of silence while Steve processes this, long enough that Nancy’s stomach begins to grow tight with worry, before he bursts out laughing. It’s loud, and bright, and makes the waitress who served them earlier glance over in sheer confusion, and Nancy finds herself laughing back.

“What the fuck, Nance,” Steve says, between breaths. “Is it—Jesus, is it catching?”

“I was so thrown when I found out about you two,” Nancy says, still giggling. “I’d been building up the nerve to tell Eddie all week, and then. Snap!”

“Shit, so, wait, you’ve only known for a week?” Steve asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I mean,” Nancy feels herself blush. “I think it’s been longer than that. That I’ve liked Robin, I mean. Since Spring Break, I think, but I’m honestly still figuring it out. But, yeah, it kind of hit me what I was actually feeling last week.”

“Nancy Wheeler, you have balls of steel,” Steve says, and his voice sounds proud. 

“So it’s been longer for you?” Nancy asks curiously, and Steve pulls a face.

“Ugh, yeah. I was—sort of just ignoring it for a while?” he confesses, and Nancy nods along encouragingly. “But then I started hanging out with Eddie more, after everything went down, and,” he blushes, again, and Nancy can fill in the rest. “So, is it bi for you, too?”

Nancy hesitates. “I’m not actually sure. I’m sorry. I’m just—still working through it.”

She’s suddenly worried, especially after everything Steve revealed earlier, that he’ll take this to heart, use it as a mark against himself, but instead he nods sagely.

“It took me a while to know for sure, too. If you want an umbrella term you could just use ‘queer’, at least for now? I know it sounds like an insult but some people in the community are starting to reclaim it.”

Nancy feels her eyes bug out at him.

“What?” Steve says, and then grins. “Okay, Ed’s lent me a bunch of these things called zines? They’re super interesting! Just wait, you’ll be getting them next now he knows about you.”

“Steve Harrington,” Nancy says. “You are full of surprises.”

Queer. Huh.

Steve smiles at her, big, clearly pleased with himself. Then he falters. “Wait. Does Robin know?”

“Of course not!” Nancy says, flapping her hands. “God. I want to tell her, I do. I just have no idea what she’ll say. I don’t want to lose her. Especially when we’re starting to fix this,” she says, indicating between the two of them. “I mean, what should I do? Did you already know about Eddie when you made a move?”

She realises that Steve has gone quiet, and when she meets his eyes he looks away hastily.

“Listen, Nance,” he says, and his voice is hesitant. Nancy’s face must drop, because he rushes to reassure her, “no, no, it’s nothing bad, she’s not in a secret relationship or anything. It’s just. I feel like I can’t really advise anything? Not without breaking Robin’s trust. But. You should tell her, okay? You should definitely tell her.”

Nancy is trying not to read too much into that but it’s hard—surely, if Robin was straight Steve wouldn’t be telling her to say something? But then again, he might just not want there to be any secrets between them any more. And she was already reassured that Robin wouldn’t hate her, not when she already knew about Steve and Eddie. God, it was all so confusing.

“I will,” she says. “I will tell her. I—I don’t know when? But soon.”

“Good,” Steve says, “because, honestly, I am terrible at keeping secrets from Robin. I’ll probably pick her up for school tomorrow morning and she’ll take one look at me and just know. That I’m keeping something from her, I mean,” he adds hastily, “not that she’ll know about you. Man. This was not how I was expecting tonight to go.”

“It was how I was hoping it would go,” Nancy confesses. “I know we have a lot of baggage, but. I’d really like us to try being friends, for once. If that’s okay with you?”

“That’s all I ever wanted, Nance,” Steve says. “Well, okay, maybe not all, but. You know. Yeah, of course that’s okay with me.”

Steve drops her home, and they spend the car journey talking about—normal stuff. Steve’s schedule for the upcoming week, Nancy’s two remaining finals. It’s small talk, it’s boring; it’s delightful.

Nancy’s mom watches her come in and clearly notes the spring in her step.

“Was that Steve Harrington I spied dropping you off?” she says, with a raised eyebrow and a coy smile.

“It was,” Nancy says.

“Are you dating again?” she asks, and her tone is eager.

“Sorry to disappoint, mom, but absolutely not,” Nancy says with a smile, and as she makes her way upstairs she can hear her mom muttering about not understanding her.

But that’s okay. Because she feels like she’s starting to understand herself more than she ever has before. And she thinks she likes what she’s finding.

Chapter Text

Nancy’s last week of high school passes a lot less climactically than she ever would have imagined. Back before—when Barb was still alive—Nancy had pictured this moment as both a great triumph and a great beginning—the end of an era, yes, but the beginning of the rest of her life. Of getting the hell out of Hawkins with her best friend at her side and moving on to bigger and better things. 

Even a year ago this was still the plan, though Barb had been replaced with Jonathan, and getting the hell out of Hawkins had become less about moving on and more about running away.

Nancy still wants this; college, a big city, friends that she hasn’t known since kindergarten. But she’s never been the type to run away, and now she’s recognised it as such she isn’t about to start now. Hawkins isn’t done with her yet.

And she isn’t done with Hawkins.

She eats lunch every day outside on the lawn with Eddie and Robin, and any awkwardness left between the three of them has melted away now that she and Steve are talking again. Eddie has been giddy with happiness all week, which Robin has already declared vomit-worthy and imposed a Steve-limit to their conversations. Eddie is already finding creative ways around this.

Nancy would find it annoying on any anyone else, but after the year he’s had she won’t begrudge him this. She did wish it didn’t make her stomach churn with jealousy, however.

Robin has been different this week, Nancy has already noticed. She hadn’t realised how much it had clearly been playing on Robin’s mind that she and Steve weren’t talking. But between their impromptu shift at Family Video and her conversation with Steve at the diner a wall seems to have dropped between the two of them. She’s warmer with Nancy than she ever used to be, and somehow both more loud and more quiet—quiet in the sense that she’s stopped panic filling every silence with small talk, and loud in the sense that when she does speak it’s with more force, more gesticulation, more passion. She feels like she’s getting to know Robin all over again, and with each conversation she is more and more sure of how she feels.

Nancy’s only issue is that she has no idea how to tell her.

Opportunity arises on Friday, when Eddie bails on their new lunch spot to sit in the canteen with the Hellfire Club. Apparently the party have been complaining that he’s ditching them for girls, which Nancy finds both hilarious and rich, considering that Max and El have both now officially joined the group.

(Max refuses to wear the t-shirt and treats the whole concept with open disdain, but it’s clear that underneath she’s pleased to be included, her new wheelchair in prime position at the end of the table. El, however, has taken to both the uniform and Eddie with a quiet seriousness, and can often be seen wearing it outside of school. Eddie is entranced by her, and Nancy finds the whole thing adorable—not that she’d ever tell him that.)

Anyway, Eddie begs off lunch that Friday with widened eyes in Nancy’s direction, a pointed look between the two of them which makes Nancy resist the urge to flip him the bird. Subtlety has never been Eddie’s strong suit, and Robin frowns after him as he scampers off.

“What was that about?” she says, and Nancy’s stomach tightens with panic.

“Oh, nothing,” she replies quickly, tearing into her sandwich and avoiding Robin’s eyes. “You know how he is.”

For fuck’s sake, Eddie, she’s not telling Robin that she has a crush on her in school. Nancy might not be entirely sure how to be the one doing the asking, but she does know that much.

And besides. While she’s relatively sure that Robin won’t, like, spit on her or anything for liking girls, and while she’s trying not to read too much into Eddie and Steve’s enthusiastic insistence that she confess her feelings—she just doesn’t know. What Robin will say. The thought of Robin looking at her differently when they’ve only just got to a good place, a comfortable place, makes Nancy feel ill.

But.

No more running away.

Nancy opens her mouth with the beginnings of an idea, but Robin gets there first.

“So, I was thinking,” Robin says, and Nancy has a brief moment of panic that Robin could somehow read her mind. “We should hang out. The four of us, I mean,” she adds, and Nancy feels the whiplash of her stomach clenching and then dropping. “Now that Eddie and Steve have sorted their shit out and you’re, well—”

“Not being an asshole about Steve any longer?” Nancy says, arching her brow.

Robin flushes red. “Not exactly what I meant, but—”

“It’s fine,” Nancy assures her. “I know this wasn’t completely my mess, but it definitely should have been on me to address, and I’m really sorry about any stress I caused you by dragging it out for so long.”

Robin’s eyes are soft as she looks at Nancy, and Nancy can feel her own cheeks begin to warm. “You’re so direct, Nance,” Robin says, softly. “I wish I was more like that.”

Nancy barks out a laugh, and Robin blinks. “Sorry, it’s just. If I’ve learned anything over the past few weeks it’s that I’m nowhere near as direct as I thought I was. Trust me, you don’t want to be like me.”

She breaks Robin’s gaze and looks down, and then jumps in surprise as a chunk of grass lands heavily on her thighs. She looks up in time to see Robin pull another handful out of the ground and launch it in her direction, and she raises her hands to cover her face instinctively, a startled laugh bubbling out of her.

“What—?”

“Don’t talk about my friend Nancy like that, okay?” Robin says, chucking another handful in her direction, and this time Nancy’s laugh is loud and delighted as she pulls her own handful out of the ground to retaliate. For the next few moments Nancy feels nothing but childish glee, and when Robin eventually yells out “I yield! I yield!” in a way that she definitely must have picked up from Eddie they’re both out of breath with laughter.

Nancy leans backwards until she’s lying flat on the floor, facing the sky, and after a moment she feels Robin mirror her, lying down beside her with a soft exhale.

“I would really like the four of us to hang out this summer,” Nancy says, and it’s true. But. The thought of spending time with Eddie and Steve, both of them knowing and Robin not knowing, is too overwhelming. It feels dishonest. “But, um.” Be brave, Nancy. “I was actually wondering what you were doing this evening? You know, to celebrate school being done and all that?”

She feels Robin turn her head to look at her, and after a moment she turns her head to the side too. Robin’s face is closer than expected, still flushed from the grass fight, and her eyes are wide with surprise.

“Oh! Well. I did have a plan, back when me and Vickie were—hanging out. But. Obviously, that’s not happening anymore. And then I figured I’d just bother Steve, but—”

“He’s taking Eddie out, I know,” Nancy says. “So, how about it? I’ll make the plan, you just be ready at, say, seven?”

“What, you’re going to come pick me up, are you?” Robin says, and there’s something in her voice, teasing and, dare Nancy think it, flirtatious.

“Did Steve not tell you I’m the perfect gentleman?” Nancy jokes, and Robin barks out a laugh at that. “But yeah, I’ll come pick you up.”

“Next you’ll be telling me to wear something cute,” Robin says, and oh. Okay, Nancy can do this.

“Well, the shoe does fit,” she says, and Robin blushes a deep red at that. She laughs, a little awkward and unsure, and Nancy laughs back, feeling her own face redden too.

Before she can say anything else, though, a shadow falls over her, someone hovering above the two of them and blocking out the sun. Nancy sits up with a hand over her eyes, squinting, and she can feel Robin do the same a second later. Standing in front her, gripping his bag awkwardly, is the last person Nancy expected to see today.

“Hey, Nance,” says Jonathan.

“Oh,” Nancy says back, and then, “hey.”

She’s seen Jonathan around in school before now, of course she has, but he’s never tried to approach her before or she him. And seeing him now, very aware of Robin stiffening up by her side, Nancy isn’t sure what to do. Talking to Jonathan wasn’t part of her plan.

“Hi, Jonathan,” Robin blurts out, and it’s too loud, and it’s slightly manic, but Nancy could hug her for filling the awkward silence.

“Hey, Robin,” Jonathan says, hand coming up to clutch at his hair in the way he does when he’s nervous, and Nancy has the uncomfortable realisation that Robin does the same thing. “Sorry to interrupt you guys. I was just, um. Wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?” He directs this last at Nancy, making it clear he means just the two of them, and Nancy feels caught in a trap. She glances at Robin, whose expression is unreadable, but it softens at whatever she sees  in Nancy eyes and she smiles encouragingly. And, right. No more running.

“Sure,” Nancy says, and she knows her voice comes out overly bright but she’ll take it. Jonathan holds out a hand, but Nancy clambers to her feet without his help and brushes the grass off her legs. She looks back down at Robin at winces apologetically. “I’m sorry, we’ll just be a minute. Wait for me here?”

Robin smiles at her—closed mouthed and small—and she immediately drops her gaze. And, fuck, but this was not how Nancy wanted lunch to go.

Jonathan leads the way back towards the school building, and Nancy follows. She glances back at Robin twice but Robin isn’t looking at her, and Nancy’s stomach is twisting with anxiety. She doesn’t know who to focus on—but then Jonathan is coming to a halt and Nancy is alone and face to face with the person she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with for the first time in months.

He looks, well. Not exactly good, but a lot more relaxed than she’s seen him look in a long time. His hair has grown even longer, and he’s still wearing the same style of patterned-shirt-over-white-t-shirt that he’d been wearing since he returned from California. It suits him.

“This is a bit of a surprise,” Nancy says to fill the silence, because Jonathan isn’t saying anything.

She feels—more fond, than she’d expected. There are no feelings rushing back, not even the residual attraction that she thinks she’ll always feel around Steve, but. They worked together, she and Jonathan, for a while, at least. More so than she and Steve ever did. And she does—miss that. Miss him.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jonathan says, that sheepish expression on his face that Nancy had once found so charming. “I just. After everything we’ve been through, I didn’t want us to graduate with the last time we spoke being when we broke up. And, well, I didn’t know if I’d see you again between now and then.” Nancy nods softly, agreeing, but then he has to go and spoil it by saying, “and I know how stubborn you can be—I just didn’t think it would happen, otherwise.”

Nancy makes a noise in the back of her throat, and her eyebrows drop into a scowl. She goes to open her mouth, but then—wait. Because. What’s the point, really? She was stubborn with Jonathan, digging her heels in where it wasn’t really her place and refusing to apologise when she knew on some level that she was in the wrong—or, at least, that it wasn’t all his fault. Not every time they argued, but more times than she’d like to admit. 

“That’s—fair,” Nancy says, and Jonathan blinks in surprise. Because, honestly, he’s right. She hadn’t been planning to talk to Jonathan before graduation. And she hadn’t realised that was something he wanted from her. She’s been so caught up with Robin and Steve and her own sexuality crisis that Jonathan’s perspective on the matter hasn’t really entered her head.

“I’ve had a lot going on recently,” Nancy says instead, knowing that doesn’t really begin to cover things. “With finals and everything. But, I have been thinking of you,” which, technically not a lie, “and I hope you’re doing okay?”

Jonathan stares at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he winces. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have made that dig. And I hope you’re doing okay too. I actually—I actually came over because I wanted to apologise to you.”

“Oh?” Nancy says.

“For not telling you about my college plans, I mean,” he clarifies, and, oh. “I don’t think I ever actually said sorry, before. And I get it, why you were so upset about it.”

And the thing was, Nancy was upset, at the time. But right now, that all feels so far away from where she is now, from who she is now, that she finds herself smiling. Jonathan stares at her in clear confusion.

“Honestly, I do understand why you did it—not the lying, I mean, but why you didn’t want to just go along with my plan for the two of us,” she says, and Jonathan is clearly not expecting that, because his eyebrows raise sharply. “And I honestly don’t think we need to rehash the whole thing. It was a factor in the break-up, yes, but we both know it just wasn’t working.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jonathan says finally, after a long pause. His hand is back in his hair. “I guess I just didn’t want that lie hanging over us. I’d—I’d like us to be friends, one day? Or, at least, for it not to be painful next time we see each other with the kids.”

“I’d like that too, one day,” says Nancy honestly. “And I think between the two of us we can definitely manage not painful for the time being.”

Jonathan laughs at that.

“I actually,” Nancy says, hesitates, and then thinks, fuck it. “I’m actually thinking about deferring for a year. I haven’t told Mom yet—or, anyone, actually, so please don’t say anything. But you deserve to know. I want to take some time to actually think about what I want, rather than just powering through. And, you know. Get to spend some time doing—normal things. With less pressure.”

Jonathan is clearly not expecting that at all, and his face has slackened in surprise. But Nancy is pleased that he doesn’t immediately throw it in her face, say that he was right all along. Maybe they have both grown after all.

“I’m actually not sure what I’m going to do,” he says, quietly, a confession. “When I applied to Lenora it was to stay close to Mom and Will, and now they’re here, so. But, I miss California. I had a good thing going out there.”

“And your friend, right, Argyle?” Nancy asks, and Jonathan nods, a smile creeping onto his face.

“I’m gunna go stay with him over the summer and figure out what to do, then,” he says. “I still want to be close to Will, but. Maybe he needs the chance to figure stuff out himself.”

“That sounds—really sensible,” Nancy says, and they both sound stilted—too polite, tiptoeing round each other—but it’s so much better than getting angry, so much better than lying.

“Your plan sounds really sensible, too,” Jonathan says back. “And I hope you do figure it all out. I’m. Proud of you, Nance.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says, and when they smile at each other it feels real.

He asks her to keep in touch, and she promises that she will, and means it. She resists the urge to tell him about Eddie, about Robin and Steve, that she has friends again, real friends. She doesn’t think he needs to hear it, especially when he’s clearly missing his life back in California—and she’s not sure she wants to bring up Steve. But. Maybe one day, they’ll get there.

They walk away from each other at the sound of the bell with no set plans to see each other again, but Nancy realises that Jonathan was right. It won’t be painful, next time—it won’t be a repeat of Steve. And she’s glad, really glad, that he came over, and forced her to confront something that she hadn’t been planning to confront.

Or, at least, she’s glad until she returns to the grass only to discover that Robin has gone.

When Nancy pulls up in front of Robin’s apartment block at five to seven that evening, her stomach is a mess of knots. She wants this evening to go well so badly, wants to—impress Robin, to show her what being with Nancy could be like. She also just wants to put her feelings out in the open, because whichever way things go this evening she can’t keep this inside any longer.

Robin had been flirting with her at lunch, she was sure of it. Robin also hadn’t waited for her like she said she would, and Nancy just doesn’t know what any of that means.

She’s has barely put the car in park before the door to Robin’s block opens and a dark shape hurries over. The passenger door is thrown open and Robin clambers in with a, “hey-sorry-I-was-creepily-waiting-at-the-door-wasn’t-sure you-were-going-to-show-up.”

“Wait, what?” Nancy says with a laugh, and then she turns to face Robin properly and feels her heart jump into her throat.

Because holy shit but does Robin look fantastic. Her hair is tied up high in a loose bun with strands falling what Nancy assumes is purposefully over her face. She’s wearing high waisted dark jeans with suspenders over a double breasted vest, and her dark jacket with the pins that Nancy has seen before is resting on her lap. She’s wearing more eyeliner than usual, and it only emphasises the green of her eyes. Nancy feels her mouth run dry. Why did she ever think Robin would be comfortable dressing up in that godawful blouse to sneak into Pennhurst when this is how she clearly likes to dress?

Then she remembers Robin’s opener.

“Why didn’t you think I’d show up?” Nancy says with a frown. Robin’s eyes snap up to meet Nancy’s from where they’d been hovering somewhere in her lap area. Nancy glances down at herself. She’d painted her nails black and worn more rings that is her usual, in what she now realises is a clear attempt to use some of Eddie’s confidence. She’s also exchanged her usual long skirt for dark jeans, and thrown her denim jacket over a high necked t-shirt. It’s a lot less put together than she would usually wear, but she feels—comfortable.

Robin shrugs with a grimace. “Didn’t mean to actually say that out loud. And, um. You did show up, so I’m clearly overthinking things, anyway.”

“Robin,” Nancy says, levelling Robin with a stare.

“Ugh, fine,” Robin groans. “Don’t look at me like that. I just—I don’t know. Thought if your chat with Jonathan went well you might want to celebrate with him instead?”

Robin’s cheeks are flushed and she’s avoiding Nancy’s eyes now, and, oh, okay, she’s embarrassed about this—embarrassed to have put that much thought into it and embarrassed that it shows that she cares. Nancy feels warmth pool through her chest—because, really, how could anyone not want to spend all their time with Robin? But Nancy can work with this. She suddenly feels a lot more confident about the outcome of the evening.

She waits until Robin meets her gaze again before leaning forward and putting the car into drive.

“Not a chance in the slightest,” she says, keeping her voice low, pulling one side of her mouth into a twisted smile at the end. Robin visibly swallows at that, and Nancy smiles to herself as she pulls off the sidewalk and back towards the high street.

It’s quiet in the car for the next couple of minutes, before Robin clearly can’t resist anymore and leans over with grabby hands for the tape player. She jumps back at the blast of guitars she’s greeted with when she turns it on, and Nancy laughs out loud and the expression on Robin’s face.

“Eddie made this mixtape for me,” she says, grinning.

“And you… actually listen to it?” Robin asks with a grimace.

Nancy laughs again. “I’m a total convert,” she says, as if confessing a big secret. 

“Huh,” says Robin. “Would not have had you down as a metalhead, Nance.”

“Well,” Nancy says, and she can feel herself smirking. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, yet.”

Robin, flicking through the songs and pulling exaggerated faces of horror, lights up when she reaches The Runaways. “Compromise!” she says grandly, and starts singing along loudly. Nancy thinks she might be in love.

As they pass the ‘leaving Hawkins’ sign, Nancy can feel Robin’s eyes on her.

“Should I be afraid to ask where we’re going?” she says, and Nancy laughs. 

“I promise I’m not kidnapping you,” she says. “And wait and see. I wanted us to do something memorable.”

Robin hums thoughtfully at that, and Nancy turns back to the road, tapping her fingers on the wheel in time with the beat of the drum. It isn’t a long drive, but Nancy is so aware of Robin sitting next to her—every small movement or noise that she makes—that by the time she pulls off the road she can feel that her hands are sticky against the wheel.

“Where are—?” Robin begins, and then cuts off abruptly as it becomes clear.

In all honestly, Nancy had no idea what to do with the evening. She’d been panicking by the time she got home from school, and after flicking through the paper without inspiration had ended up resorting to something she never would have done willingly a week ago: calling Steve Harrington. And thank god, he came through.

“Wait, are we—we’re going to a drive-in?” Robin asks, and there’s something open and childlike in her voice.

“Well, I know you’re a movie buff,” Nancy says, her voice coming out high with nerves as she joins the queue to pay for tickets. “And, um. Well, I asked Steve, actually, and he said you wanted to see this one.”

Robin rolls down the window on her side of the car so that she can stick her head out to see the posters, and her squeal of excitement is contagious. Nancy is laughing as Robin throws herself across the dashboard to wrap Nancy in a hug,

“We’re seeing Labyrinth!” Her voice is loud and filled with laughter. “Nancy you don’t even know how excited I’ve been to see this movie. How did you guess? Wait, you said you asked Steve? Nance, just,” Robin pulls away and Nancy immediately feels bereft at the lack of contact. Robin’s face is soft as she smiles at Nancy from across the car. “Thank you. You don’t even know—this was so kind of you.”

Nancy laughs, feeling awkward in the face of Robin’s openness as she reaches the front of the queue and rolls down her window to pay. She thanks the vendor and starts navigating the car across the unsteady ground to reach their spot. 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I wanted us to do something fun, different! And when Steve said you’d been looking forward to seeing this movie for ages it felt obvious. Plus,” she leans a hand behind her seat and spends a few seconds struggling to reach what she’s looking for, “um, bear with me.” Nancy can feel her face heat as the silence stretches on, until finally her hand finds her bag. “Aha!” 

She heaves the bag over the seat and thrusts it at Robin, her face still warm. “I bought snacks! We’re having the essential cinema viewing experience here.”

Robin laughs in delight as she opens the bag to find a quite frankly ridiculous variety of chips and candies—Nancy was nervous, okay—and when she looks back up at Nancy her eyes are filled with something Nancy can’t quite interpret. But she’s really hoping she knows what it is.

“Nance, I can’t believe you’ve done this for me,” she says softly. “Thank you.”

“Hush, previews are starting,” Nancy says, cheeks still burning, and she leans across to grab at a bag of chips instead of answering. 

Robin settles happily into her seat as the trailers start, but Nancy can’t focus. Is this too obvious? Not obvious enough? Is this something a friend would do? It’s so much easier with guys, is the thing—if a guy had organised something like this for her it would obviously be a date. Is this a date? She and Barb used to go to the movies together, but never like this — she’d never planned Barb a surprise trip to see a movie she’d been wanting to see… wait, did that make Nancy a bad friend? Focus, Nancy! Robin will think you’re having a bad time.

“Are you okay, Nance?” Robin asks quietly, almost on cue, and Nancy whips her head towards Robin so quickly it jars.

“Yes, of course, why do you ask?” she cringes though her answer—too loud, too defensive. “I’m just excited!”

Robin looks at her sceptically. “Had you even heard of this movie before tonight?”

Nancy considers lying, but. “Um, no,” she confesses. “But I did look up reviews in the paper earlier and it sounds really intriguing. David Bowie’s in it, right?”

Robin lights up at that, and spends the rest of the previews telling Nancy everything she knows already about the film—about the casting and directing and behind the scenes gossip, and, how does she know of all this? And Nancy feels herself relaxing. She can’t switch off her brain, not exactly, but the high-level thrum of questions and nerves is second to listening to Robin talk.

The movie is, well. It’s interesting. Not at all what Nancy would have chosen to see herself, but as it goes on she finds herself gripped and rooting for Sarah. It’s uncomfortably relatable, actually—a young girl wishing for something she doesn’t mean and then having to deal with the consequences via a labyrinthian magical world.

And Robin. Robin is entranced. She gasps in all the right places, flails her arms about when something unexpected happens, and when the Fireys appear Robin jumps so hard she ends up clutching Nancy’s arm tightly. Some of those puppets are creepy, okay? She doesn’t appear to realise that she’s done it and Nancy isn’t sure what to do; Robin’s gaze is still fixed on the screen. Gently, Nancy leans over with her other hand to rub at Robin’s arm—a comfort, she figures, if Robin is scared. At Nancy’s touch Robin whips her head round to look at her with wide eyes, but when Nancy only smiles reassuringly she doesn’t move her hand away, doesn’t let go of her grip on Nancy.

And so, they stay like that, for the rest of the film—holding arms rather than hands, clutching more tightly when Sarah and Jareth face-off each other, and at one point Robin actually hits Nancy in excitement. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and Nancy wishes she was brave enough to move her hand down to tangle their fingers together, but she doesn’t.

The drive back to Hawkins is a lot less quiet than the drive there—Robin is practically bouncing in her seat as she relays all her favourite parts, and did you see this bit, Nance? And would you have been fooled by the Junk Lady? And didn’t you just love Hoggle? 

And, actually, yes, Nancy did.

When they reach Robin’s block Nancy doesn’t want the evening to end, and she contemplates doing something ridiculous like walking Robin to the door as if this was an actual date, when Robin asks, softly, “do you want to come up for a bit? My parents are both working the late shift tonight, so it’s just me, and, um. I’m really enjoying this.”

“Yes!” says Nancy, not caring that she sounds overly eager. “Yes, definitely! You can make me one of your teas!”

Robin snorts at that, and Nancy feels giddy as she follows Robin upstairs.

She settles herself in Robin’s living room while she makes them drinks. So much has changed since Nancy was last here, but this room remains the same; same music stand tucked away in the corner, same magazines on the coffee table, somehow even more books teetering on their stack by the bookcase. It’s such a cosy, gentle space, and with that thought Nancy steels her stomach. The time is right, she can feel it. It’s now or never.

Robin comes into the room balancing two mugs of tea carefully in front of her.

“Don’t distract me I have terrible balance,” she says quickly, her eyes fixed on the mugs as she slowly lowers them to the coffee table in front of them. Nancy cheers as she puts them down without spilling a drop and Robin shoves a cushion at her. 

Nancy takes a long sip of her tea and hums, content. “Tonight was so much fun,” she says. “I can’t remember the last time I went to the movies. I’d—forgotten.” She breaks off, embarrassed, but Robin is nodding along.

“I get it. I mean, not about not going to the movies, I do work in a Video store, but. About forgetting about the little things. It’s hard, right? To go back to normal after everything that’s happened. And, jeez, I’ve only had two go-arounds at it, so it must be so much harder for you. But. I think it’s important. To remember how to be normal, and to take in the little things. It’s what’s keeping me going at the moment.”

Nancy nods slowly. She thinks back to how she felt after Spring Break; that everyone was moving on without her, and actually. She doesn’t think that was right. Robin isn’t moving on, she’s just coping, and somewhere along the way Nancy had lost her means of doing that. Maybe never had a means of doing that in the first place.

“I think you’re right,” Nancy says, softly. “Thank you. For reminding me.”

“Um, Nance, I think you mean thank you,” Robin says. “This was your idea, you’re the one who organised it. I—had such a lovely time. It almost felt—” she broke off abruptly and immediately turned beet red.

“Almost felt what?” Nancy says into the silence. 

Robin doesn’t say anything, looks down at her mug and avoids Nancy’s eyes.

Nancy’s heartbeat suddenly feels louder in her chest. She scoots forward on the couch until her knees are almost touching Robin’s. Almost, but not quite.

“Robin?” she asks, softly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Robin says, but she does bring her gaze back up to meet Nancy’s, and then they’re staring at each other, and Robin’s eyes are so green, and Nancy’s going to say something— 

“I need to tell you something,” Robin blurts out before Nancy can get there.

“Oh,” Nancy blinks, thrown off. Robin puts her mug down on the coffee table with force, and a couple of drops splash over the edge. She twists her hands together in her lap, and she looks nervous but determined.

“Me too,” says Nancy. “But go ahead.”

“I’m gay,” Robin says, and her voice is loud in the quiet of the room. Nancy just—stops functioning. Feels her body freeze as her heart starts beating double time in her chest. Robin continues: “As in, I’m-a-lesbian gay, I-like-girls gay. Wow. Um. I think that’s actually the first time I’ve said those words out loud to someone else? Which is ridiculous, honestly, you’re like the fourth person I’ve done this with, but, um,” she trails off, looking more and more panicked as she goes on, “yeah.”

Nancy reaches forward quickly and grasps Robin’s hands within her own, finally.

“Robin,” Nancy says, squeezing her hands firmly, and okay, she had a feeling, she’s been picking up the signs, but it’s done nothing to stop the vast feeling of relief and elation and is currently spreading through her chest. She lets out a laugh, small and delighted, and Robin’s entire body relaxes at whatever she sees on Nancy’s face. “Thank you so much for telling me. I—”

“Vickie was my girlfriend,” Robin continues, as if she can’t stop. And, oh. Well, that makes sense. “That’s why I was so upset when we stopped hanging out—because we broke up. And, um. I’d had a crush on her for ages, long before everything went down in March, right?” Nancy nods along, realising that Robin needs to get this all out. “And then we started talking properly when we were both doing shifts at the school after the earthquake, and then she told me she liked me, and Nance, stuff like this never happens to me. So at first I’m like, what’s the catch. And then—then I start to realise that I’m the catch.” She breaks off, and stares down at her lap, where Nancy’s hands are still tangled with hers. 

Nancy isn’t really sure where this story is going, and she knows that Robin being gay does not automatically mean that Robin is gay for her, but. She brushes her thumbs over Robin’s hands anyway, because she has a feeling, and because it looks like Robin needs it.

Robin laughs, and it sounds a bit wet. “You might not be wanting to comfort me in a minute, Nance.”

“I will,” Nancy says firmly. “And—and you know you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to, right? I mean—I want to know, of course I do, but I don’t want to force you—”

“No, I, I need to,” Robin says, drawing herself up. “I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.” Nancy nods at that, pressing her lips between her teeth and swallowing tightly.

“See, the thing is, after everything went down over Spring Break part of me just wanted to forget about it all, and go on dates, and get to be—to be someone’s girlfriend, in a way I never had before. And it was good, and it was fun, but. I couldn’t be myself around her, because she didn’t know about this huge part of me—about Starcourt and the Russians and the Mind-Flayer and Vecna and how Max and Eddie nearly—” she broke off, shuddered. “And she never really got my friendship with Steve. And she really didn’t get why I wanted to hang out with you, Nance, or with Eddie. And how was I supposed to explain it? Oh, we all bonded when we saved the world together, no big deal.”

“Is that why you broke up, then?” Nancy asks, hesitantly.

Robin sighs. “I think it would have been, eventually,” she says. “But, actually. While all of that was happening, I was also realising I liked someone else?” Oh. “Like, in a crush way. And I—I didn’t think there was any chance of anything happening with—with this person, but, it still made me act differently? And in the end I’m just—I’m not very good at pretending, I guess.”

“Who was the other person?” Nancy’s voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “That you had a crush on?”

Robin’s laugh sounds a bit hysterical. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

Her cheeks are flushed, and she won’t meet Nancy’s eyes, and she looks so goddamn beautiful that Nancy can’t wait any longer. She leans forward, one of her hands moving from Robin’s lap to grasp her knee and the other one resting against her chin—and then she doesn’t think about it any further, and she tilts Robin’s chin up and kisses her softly.

Robin stiffens immediately at the touch of Nancy’s lips to her own, and Nancy has a brief moment of hot panic that she’s massively misread this—before Robin makes a small noise and relaxes into the kiss, opening her mouth for Nancy and bringing one hand up hesitantly to rest under her elbow. They sit there, facing each other on the couch, and they kiss again and again, and Nancy feels like her heart is in her mouth with how hard it’s beating. 

She had wondered whether it would be different—from kissing a guy, she means—and in a weird way it both is and it isn’t. There’s no stubble, for one, no harshness against Nancy’s chin, or cheeks, and as she pushes closer to Robin she can feel the soft press of Robin’s chest against her own, and—okay. She likes that. But the feeling itself—of Robin’s lips moving against hers, a shaky exhale as she pauses for press, a hint of teeth pressed against her lower lip—well, that feeling is the same, and Nancy presses closer, can’t get enough of it.

And then Robin pulls away abruptly.

“Wait, wait,” she says, and she pushes Nancy backwards gently until they’re both kneeling, facing each other. Nancy can feel her breath coming heavier than usual, and Robin looks equally flushed, but not enough to mask the panic on her face. Nancy’s stomach drops. “Nance, Nancy. What—what’s happening here? Why did you kiss me?”

Nancy’s brain feels like it’s leaked out of her ears, and it takes her a moment to remember that she hasn’t actually said anything to Robin yet. She opens her mouth, but Robin is already on a roll.

“Because I like you so much, and I, I can’t be your experiment, I just can’t do it—”

“Robin,” Nancy interrupts, and she can hear the laugh in her voice, and Robin stops talking abruptly at whatever she hears in Nancy’s tone. “I like you too. A lot. So much. I was going to tell you this evening anyway, but you beat me to it. I like you too.”

Robin’s face goes through a series of emotions, too quick for Nancy to catch, before landing on baffled. “Wait, what? ”

“I’m queer,” Nancy says, only a little bit shakily. “I’m still, uh, figuring it out. But I know I like you, and I think I have for a while. Eddie already knows, and I told Steve last week—”

That seems to break Robin out of her stupor. “You told Steve before me? What, were you asking for his blessing or something?”

Nancy’s laugh is delighted. “It just came out while we were talking—”

“As did you, apparently,” Robin says, voice dry.

“I’m serious! I—it was important for me to tell him—stop laughing at me!”

But Robin has curled inwards, her hands covering her face as her laugh rings out loud and bright, filling the room. 

“I’m sorry—I’m—not laughing at you,” she gasps out, between breaths. “I just—I can’t believe,” she descends into giggles again, and Nancy snorts fondly, moving closer to Robin and rubbing her shoulders until she regains composure. She sits up, and meets Nancy’s eyes, and suddenly the air between them feels charged. “Is this real?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“So… you like me, huh?” Robin asks, and it’s joking, but Nancy can sense the insecurity lurking beneath the words.

“Yes,” Nancy says again, firmly. “To use Eddie’s words, I have a giant embarrassing crush on you, okay? And I promise I’m not—experimenting, or confused, or—”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Robin says softly, and one of her hands comes up Nancy’s hair, twisting a strand around her fingers and staring at it as if she can’t believe she’s allowed to touch. Nancy can hardly focus at the feel of Robin’s hand so close to her face. “Sorry. If there’s anyone who knows her mind, it’s you, Nance. I just—things like this don’t happen to me—”

“You’ve said that already,” Nancy says, leaning closer to Robin, and she thrills at the way Robin’s pupils widen, following the movement. “Maybe it’s time to accept that they do.”

She leans even closer, brushing her lips against Robin’s, and she can feel Robin’s swallow. “I can work on that,” Robin says, barely a sound, and then they’re kissing again, and this time it’s better, this time they’re on the same page.

Robin pulls Nancy forward, and Nancy ends up half-straddling her lap, Robin’s hand still tangled in Nancy’s hair and Nancy’s hands resting on Robin’s shoulders. Robin’s other hand comes to rest gently, hesitantly, at Nancy’s waist, and Nancy feels a small thrill go through her at the feel of it. She runs her hands down to Robin’s elbows and then back up again, and then further, until she’s cupping Robin’s jaw with both hands. Robin shifts under her, and Nancy takes advantage of the movement to press closer, to coax Robin’s mouth open with her tongue.

They kiss, and kiss, until eventually Robin is smiling too much against Nancy’s mouth to kiss back. Nancy pulls away, giggling, and runs a thumb across Robin’s cheek.

“Hi,” Robin whispers, her face flushed, eyes bright. Nancy leans down for one more closed mouth kiss, because she can, because how can she resist with Robin looking like that.

“Hi,” she whispers back, and she can feel her smile lighting up her face.

“Are you okay, if, um—” Robin starts, looking slightly awkward, but Nancy is nodding before she’s even finished talking.

“I don’t want to rush this either,” she says, and feels Robin relax. She thinks back to Steve and Jonathan, and how both of those relationships had started with sex. No, she’d much rather take her time.

“Good,” Robin says softly, her thumb rubbing gently up and down Nancy’s waist. Then: “it’s getting late. Do you need to go yet?”

Nancy glances down at her watch, and then again at Robin’s face. She smiles. “I think I can stay a little longer.”

“Good,” Robin says, louder this time, and pulls Nancy back down to kiss her again.

“You ready for this, Wheeler?” Eddie says.

They’re sitting in Eddie’s van. They’re sitting in Eddie’s van on the drive of Steve Harrington’s mansion of a house.

Nancy nods firmly. “It feels right, for it to be today,” she says, and Eddie’s smile widens. He’s been grinning all day, ever since he walked across the stage and took his diploma—gratefully, with shaking hands—without a flipped bird in sight.

It’s been a weird day, truth be told. Full of ghosts. 

Barb, for a start. Nancy supposes this will never leave her, that at every great milestone she’ll be looking around for the space that Barb’s death has left behind. Graduating without Barb feels like a betrayal of sorts, but she’s come far enough to realise that there’s no good thinking like that: that Barb would be happy for her, just like she would be if the situation had been reversed.

It wasn’t just Barb, though; the room was haunted by the absence of more recent ghosts. Of Chrissy, Fred, Patrick. Of Jason, and the others lost in the so-called earthquake. When Principal Higgins read out their names for a minute’s silence at the beginning of the ceremony, Nancy could feel the eyes on Eddie, and wished more than anything that their surnames were closer together in the roll-call.

She’d been worried that he’d be booed. They all had. She and Robin had discussed it beforehand—whether there was anything they could do to prevent it—but the reality of the matter was that Nancy couldn’t control what everyone thinks, as much as she’d like to be able to do so. She could only hope that Eddie’s presence in school over the past few weeks has been enough to temper any rogue believers of Jason’s mob.

She had hardly been able to focus through the speeches, and only realised that her classmates were already across the stage when Robin waves at her from the line-up. Her hat was already tilting to the right, and her robes weren’t quite sitting right against her shoulders. God, Nancy loves her.

Robin walks across the stage to a loud cheer from the back of the auditorium, and when Jonathan follows to a similar raucous Nancy feels herself relax. Of course Steve and the kids would have this handled. 

Sure enough, when Eddie steps awkwardly onto the stage Nancy can’t even tell if there is any booing from the overwhelming cacophony from the back of the room. Not just cheers—but whistles, hooting, banging, and what even sounds a bit like a trumpet. Eddie stands stock still, staring frozen into the crowd, before his face transforms into the biggest smile. He gives a little bow, and then strides across the stage to grasp his diploma like a lifeline.

By the time it’s Nancy’s turn the whole lot of them are there, and as she steps onto the stage she finds them each in turn: Joyce and Hopper, arm in arm; Max, grinning from her chair while El grasps the handles and waves; Dustin, Lucas, and Will, with matching shit-eating grins—oh, and there’s the trumpet; Erica, small smile on her face despite looking over the whole occasion; Mike, with a thumbs up and a genuine smile that makes her chest warm; Jonathan, rueful grin on his face; Eddie and Steve, whooping loudly and leaning into each other; and Robin, finally, clapping her hands and beaming across the room. Her family.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. There are snacks in the hall while the cohort mingle and pretend they all liked each other while they were in classes together, and then Nancy suffers through a relatively pain free lunch with her parents and Mike. And then, her evening plans. Well, their evening plans.

When Robin suggested the four of them do something after graduation it had quickly become apparent that Steve’s house was the only option. There’s no way Nancy’s parents would let her have two boys over—especially not when one of those boys was Eddie Munson—and neither Eddie’s trailer nor Robin’s apartment had the space. 

Now that she’s here, Nancy is—nervous, yes. She was always going to be. Just as this house was always going to be the place where Barb died. 

Eddie grabs her hand as they walk up the drive and Nancy grips back, gratefully. And then Robin opens the door, and Nancy feels her face drawing into a smile involuntarily. Robin pulls her into a hug, and she can hear Eddie say “disgusting” as he moves past her into the kitchen—which, sure, he’s one to talk—before she burrows her face in Robin’s shoulder.

“We did it,” she says, softly, and then Robin is spinning her around and laughing. Things are still new between them, but every day she becomes more and more comfortable—with reaching out, with asking for affection and accepting it back. It’s making her realise how much she’s always held back, in the past.

“You’re okay about this?” Robin says, seriously, as she leads Nancy through to the back of the house, the second living area where Steve spent most of his time back when they were together. There’s a generous spread laid out already; pizzas and fries and an impressive variety of chips, as well as an ice-bucket full of beer. That new song by Tears for Fears is on the record player—not for long, Nancy guesses, now that Eddie’s here. It’s a sparse room, but it feels a lot cosier than she remembers it being. More lived in. Or maybe that’s just Robin’s presence.

“Actually, yes. You know what? I think I built this up too much in my head,” Nancy admits reluctantly, and Robin heaves a sigh of relief big enough that Nancy can tell she was genuinely worrying. Nancy leans in and kisses her on the cheek—once, twice, because they do that now, are open and easy with their affection—and then drags her over to the couch.

“Thank you for worrying,” she says, and Robin gives her that look that’s a mix between you’re-so-weird and I’m-so-fond-of-you.

Steve comes in with even more food, and he waves softly at Nancy as he sets the plate down.

“Congrats, Nance,” he says genuinely.

“Sorry I wasn’t at yours,” she says back, and he shrugs it away. One day, she hopes, he’ll get better at accepting her apologies. 

They can do this now, you see, hang out as a four. It’s gotten to a point where they’re falling into a rhythm.

Eddie, always predictable, immediately drags Steve for his music taste, calling in Nancy as back-up to Steve’s protests. At some point Steve and Robin will start mirroring each other’s movements, or finish each other's sentences in that creepy sharing-a-brain way that they do, and Eddie and Nancy will roll their eyes at each other from across the room. Eventually Robin will start monologuing about her new passion of the week, and everyone will indulge her fondly. And Nancy will inevitably say something that’ll have Eddie and Steve cackling while Robin tries valiantly to defend her.

It’s not perfect, not yet. They’re all still learning. But. As Nancy settles herself into Robin’s side and feels her girlfriend’s arm wrap around her snugly. As Eddie does the same from the other couch and shoots her a ‘can you believe we get to have this’ look as he stretches his legs across Steve’s lap. Well. Who wants perfect, anyway? 

What she has right now is more than enough.