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The thing about the Upside Down is that you never really get used to it. Nancy’s known about it for years now, all the way back since 1983, and she’s fought monsters, and she’s uncovered conspiracies, and she’s investigated exploding rats, and she’s come so close, she’s come so close so many times to losing everything. To losing Mike, to losing Jonathan, to losing Steve.
To losing herself.
(And she’d still trade her life for Barb’s in a heartbeat)
So even if Nancy goes the rest of her years on Earth without hearing hide nor hair of the Upside Down ever again - which she knows won’t happen, especially not now that Hawkins has been cleaved into neat little fire-stained quarters - she’ll always have the memories. No amount of time could ever wipe them from her mind; they’re a part of her, like an old and puckered scar, and if she knew how to stop dreaming about them, she would.
Instead, she opts to go her usual route of not sleeping. It happened the first time, it happened the second time, it happened last year, and it’ll happen now - always those first couple of nights, sitting up in bed with the lights on, staring at the wall or at the ceiling and trying not to jump at every single little bump in the surrounding ink. Once upon a time, she had Jonathan, and they could stay sleepless together, but…not anymore. It’s for the best, Nancy has to remind herself, a frown tugging down at the corners of her lips. It’s for the best, it really is. And if he can’t understand that, or you can’t understand that, then…
Something taps lightly on the outside of her window, and Nancy startles. It could be a bird. It could be a demobat. It could be a chipmunk, or it could be Vecna himself, come to exact his revenge for the bullets Nancy unloaded into his disgusting, awful body -
But it’s Robin, waggling her fingers in an awkward little wave, and Nancy crosses the room, throws the window up and says, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” Robin hops through, does the window back up behind her and pulls the curtains shut for good measure. “I was gonna call, but our phone lines are still down.”
“Are you ok?” Nancy asks, scanning Robin’s form for any sign of injury, any notion of pain. “You don’t seem hurt.”
“I’m fine, I - “ Robin swallows. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
“You can tell me.” Nancy wants to help. Nancy wants to help in any way that she can, because it’s Robin. Especially because it’s Robin.
“I can’t, uh - “ Robin brings a sheepish hand to rub at the back of her neck. “I can’t really sleep? Like, at all? And I know Steve lives closer to me, and I could have just gone there, and he’s my best friend, but, um. I don’t know, I guess - I guess I wanted to see you,” she finishes lamely, looking afraid. “If that’s…ok.”
Something deep in Nancy’s stomach swoops. “Of course it’s ok, Robin. I can’t sleep, either.”
“I never seem to,” Robin says quietly. “Right after.”
Nancy nods. “I know. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
Robin sighs. “I just - I’m not sure, I think I need some sort of distraction? And you could probably use one, too, if I’m understanding you correctly.”
“Yeah.” Nancy sits down on her bed, pats the spot next to her until Robin joins her. “Most of the time I had Jonathan with me. We’d pull all-nighters and talk about stupid shit to keep our minds off the stuff that really scared us.” She smiles, a little ruefully. “I hope he’s helping El and Will out with that right now.”
“I had Steve.” Robin kicks off her shoes, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around to hug them. “He was…really good about it. Good to me.”
“It’s hard,” Nancy agrees. “It’s really fucking hard, Robin. And I know it’ll never stop, for any of us.” She exhales. “But it’ll get easier. With time.”
There’s a moment, and then Robin whispers, like she’s afraid Nancy will scream at her, “Can I stay here?”
And she biked all the way here in the pitch blackness by herself, and there are dark circles under her eyes that aren’t going to come out for a long while, and Nancy’s parents are asleep down the hall, so she says, “Yeah, you can.”
She would have said it, regardless, and she’s pretty sure Robin knows that, but. But, but, but.
But they lie back among Nancy’s plush pillows and stare at the ceiling as they talk to each other. About school. About what colleges they want to go to. About their favorite movies, their favorite songs, about Steve, and about Eddie’s funeral in a few days. They change the subject pretty quickly once that comes up, but the topic lingers like a cloud of locusts, humming just on the edges of Nancy’s peripherals.
She hates it. Not spending time with Robin, but the fact that it’s necessary for them to do this at all. It isn’t fair, and it never has been. Nancy should know better by now than to feel cheated by it.
Something must show in her face, because suddenly Robin’s asking her, “Hey. You ok?”
Nancy snorts, brings a hand to her forehead. “Of course not,” she says, and Robin nods sagely, eyes flicking downward.
“Right. I’m sorry. That was such a stupid question.” Robin fidgets against the wall, clears her throat, fidgets again. “Seriously, if I ever ask anything dumb like that or say something idiotic without realizing it, please don’t hesitate to let me know. It’s something I’m trying to work on and I don’t know I’m doing it half the time so if you helped me out by just telling me when I’m being too much and/or too stupid, that would be really great, Nance, really.” She swallows. “And I’m talking too much again. I’m sorry.”
Nancy shakes her head, a soft smile playing at her lips. “Don’t apologize. You’re not stupid, you’re…” She trails off, shrugs lightly like it doesn’t matter when it so, so does. “You’re Robin Buckley, and you’re a total badass.”
Robin’s face reddens. “Yeah, right, ok. Not as much as you are, though.”
Nancy, watching the girl next to her worry her top teeth into her lower lip and brush an anxious strand of blonde hair behind her right ear, is stuck with the realization that Robin is the most beautiful person she’s ever seen in the world. It isn’t a sudden occurrence. It’s not a surprise. It’s more like, Hey, there you are. Wow. I get it, now.
Nancy wets her mouth with her tongue. “Robin, I - “
The power shuts off. Nancy jumps with a start; next to her, Robin does the same thing.
Robin chuckles nervously. “Oh. That…sucks.”
Every shadow in the room suddenly seems longer to Nancy - every set of lights in the dark is a pair of beady eyes, a set of razor-sharp teeth. Nancy’s gut runs ice-cold with fear, and she knows Robin feels the same way.
Between them, their hands find each other on top of the mattress.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Robin’s repeating, under her breath. “It’s totally fine.”
Nancy squeezes her hand reassuringly. “Think of something to distract yourself. Quick, who’s your favorite member of the Breakfast Club?”
“The Bookworm.” Robin’s answer is automatic. “I don’t think that’s gonna keep my attention for long, Nance.”
“Ok, then - “ Nancy wracks her brain, pressing her palm to Robin’s as she fishes for a change of plan, a beam of bright light to fend off the monsters with. “I have a secret. Bet you can’t guess what it is.”
“Um,” says Robin, voice still shaking. “You secretly liked the metal music Eddie kept playing all the time.”
Nancy huffs, laughing lightly. “No. Guess again.”
“You care about your younger siblings more than you want to admit?”
“True,” Nancy acknowledges. “But not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Ok, then…” Nancy’s eyes have adjusted to the lack of light, and Robin’s expression appears a little helpless. “You still have feelings for Steve, and you’re getting ready to ask him out again when you have the chance.”
To that, Nancy actually snorts out loud. “No. I’m not asking Steve out.”
“But you still have feelings for him?” Robin persists. “You’d like to get back with him eventually?”
“I’d hate to burst Steve’s bubble,” says Nancy, rolling her eyes. “But this secret is that I’m actually into somebody else.”
And Robin goes quiet. “Somebody…else?”
“Yep,” Nancy confirms. “Somebody else.”
Robin says, softly, “It wasn’t Eddie, was it?”
Nancy shakes her head, that familiar sadness seeping slowly into her bones. “No. It wasn’t Eddie.”
“Ok, then - “ Robin pulls a face. “Argyle? Not that he’s not a super funny guy, Nance, but I wouldn’t really peg him for your type - “
“It’s not Argyle.” Nancy exhales. “It’s someone different.”
“Well,” says Robin after a beat, clearly sifting through the list of possibilities as quickly as she can. “If it was Billy, then I’m not really sure that I know what to say - “
She’s joking, and it’s easy to tell, but Nancy cuts her off, anyway. “Robin,” she says. Now or never. “It’s you.”
Robin falls silent. Then she says, very sullenly, “That’s not funny, Nancy.”
“Good. I’m not kidding.” Nancy reaches out to where Robin has begun to separate their hands, pulls them back together again. “I really like you, Rob.”
Robin shakes her head. Her face is pale; she looks sick. “No, you don’t. You’re not supposed to - You’re supposed to have a house at the end of the cul-de-sac. A nuclear family with a picket fence and a dog.”
“You know I’ve never wanted that,” says Nancy. “Not once.”
Robin swallows, the click in her throat audible in the lazy quietness of Nancy’s dark bedroom. “Seriously, if this is some sort of sick joke - “
“It’s not,” Nancy says, sitting up, and - “Can I kiss you? Would you let me do that?”
Robin’s mouth gapes like a fish for air - and then she rushes forward to press her pink lips up against Nancy’s own. Nancy kisses her back like she’s a drowning woman in desperate need of a life preserver; in a sense, she sort of is one.
“Oh,” gasps Robin, breaking off. “So you weren’t lying.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Nancy replies, kisses her again and asks, “Are you distracted, now?”
Robin snorts. “God, Steve’s corny one-liners have rubbed off on you,” she says, and then Nancy can’t snap back with a witty Wheeler retort because her mouth is otherwise occupied.
By the time the power flickers back on an hour later, no one in the room is awake to see it.