Chapter Text
All her life, Robin was waiting to dream about her wedding. When she was a little girl, all of her friends talked about their dreams of what their wedding would be. It was always the same thing: Big flowing ball gowns, the princess treatment, and their perfect husband. Robin was waiting to dream of her own. She wasn’t sure how to go about it. She tried to sit down and think about what she would like, expecting to come up with the same thing all her friends did. She never got farther than thinking ‘I don’t want to wear a dress,’ before she gave up.
Then came the logical conclusion that Robin must just be a tomboy, and that’s why she hadn’t obsessively dreamed about what her wedding would be like. Her parents said it, so it had to be the truth, right?
When all of Robin’s friends started having sleepovers and talking about the boys they had a crush on, Robin didn’t. She concluded she must just have standards that no boy in Hawkins, Indiana could reach. That wasn’t too difficult to convince her friends of. They thought it was sweet that she was waiting for the right one. She appreciated her friends for pretending they didn’t think she was weird.
Robin started to suspect something was off when she decided that she needed to start making charts to keep track of her lies. They weren’t malicious lies, but there were so many of them and they were starting to spiral out of control. She made lists of what she was supposed to answer when her friends asked if she thought the boys they liked were hot.
"Yeah, he’s hot, just not really my type." Was the safest. It wouldn’t make them think she wasn’t into boys, it would just make them think she was really picky.
"Well, what is your type?" Asked one very well-meaning, but unhelpful friend. Robin had to lie on the spot. She rushed home that day to add her false description to the list.
It wasn’t that Robin didn’t have a type or a dream wedding. In fact, she thought about it all the time. She would wear a suit no matter how much she’d have to argue about it. The wedding would be in Paris at sunset, ideally in front of the Eiffel Tower but that would be a nightmare to book. Plus, the photos would have all sorts of people in them which could look cool, but might turn out weird.
There was just one problem.
No matter how hard she tried, Robin couldn’t force herself to picture getting married to a man. She knew there was just something wrong with her. She didn’t talk to enough boys to have a crush on them - the only ones she talked to were in her band class, and they were weird. Her only friends were girls, even though they were starting to pull away from her, and so it was only logical that she would picture getting married to them.
There couldn’t be a wedding without a dress, she reasoned, and her friends were the only ones who would wear a dress. That had to be why.
But as time wore on and she started staring at Chrissy Cunningham whenever she walked by in her uniform, she started having even more trouble picturing anyone else. Robin couldn’t help it. She was so nice . Chrissy was kind to the band kids, she’d compliment them after pep rallies or games… and, okay, she was really pretty.
She finally admitted it to herself when she missed a question Mrs. Click was asking because she was too busy looking at Tammy Thompson. Robin never missed questions. Even Mrs. Click noticed something was up. She played it off and explained that she was just tired. She’d never been more wide awake.
Robin didn’t stop watching Tammy Thompson. She didn’t stop trying to “overhear” her conversations, no matter how boring and no matter the fact that they were with Steve Harrington of all people. It annoyed her to no end, but she listened anyway. She was just more careful now that she’d been caught once. She couldn’t afford to slip up again.
She had a crush on Tammy Thompson.
This was nothing short of catastrophic. She could not have a crush on Tammy Thompson, a girl. Robin desperately tried convincing herself it was just jealousy. She wanted to be jealous of her amazing (horrible) singing voice, or her beauty, or how well (poorly) she was doing in Mrs. Click’s class. It didn’t work.
She pulled away from all of her friends. Even the band kids who were just as weird as her. She couldn’t let herself be around them. She felt like a freak. She felt creepy . And she knew that if her secret got out, her life would be over. She wished she could just be normal. Life would be so much easier that way. But it didn’t ever change. She couldn’t stop herself from feeling how she did, she could only hide the truth.
So she did. She stopped talking to everyone. She sat in her teacher’s room at lunch, talking much more with him than she should’ve. She was terrified she’d let something slip.
And then she met Steve Harrington. Really met him this time. He’d changed a lot since high school.
Robin really hated to admit it, but… he was kind of funny. He’d talk bad about the customers with her, start meaningless arguments over what kind of ice cream was the best, (he said sorbet. Blasphemy.), and he didn’t mind it when she made fun of his complete lack of charisma. She seriously struggled to understand how anyone thought he was cool in high school.
Her view of him shifted even more when she started to notice these kids. There wasn’t anything particularly weird about them initially - kids were practically their target clientele - it was the way he greeted them all by name. He knew their orders off the top of his head, he snuck them into movies, and gave them all a “family discount” even though Robin knew he was an only child.
So maybe he wasn’t as rude as he was in high school. It was weird to acknowledge that, but it didn’t exactly surprise Robin.
She started to find that she actually enjoyed working with him. Not enough that she looked forward to it, but she certainly stopped dreading it. Conversations were easy to maintain with him.
They had a mutual dislike for their rudest customers and formed a sort of alliance that way. Robin had agreed to keep quiet about him sneaking the kids into movies and Steve had agreed to keep quiet about Robin’s extra breaks. He’d even offered to keep things running for longer when she told him why she took breaks so often.
It was nice.
They weren’t quite friends, but they didn’t hate each other, and that was a start.
Robin gave up on marriage a long time ago. She knew that she was destined to be forever single. She wouldn’t even be the aunt that came around every so often with stories of her travels, because she had no siblings.
In a perfect world, Robin would be allowed to marry a woman. It would be okay, accepted, and legally possible. She didn’t see that happening for a long time.
That used to upset her. Maybe it was to do with her loneliness, maybe it was because she’d never had a relationship, but she wanted nothing more than for it to be okay for her to be married to the person she wanted to be married to.
Robin stopped caring about marriage. There were more important things now. She had friends for the first time in years. Friends who she didn’t feel weird or creepy around. She’d become friends with the very same kids she’d seen come into Scoops Ahoy and eat one too many free samples. She’d become friends with the very same kids she broke into a secret Russian bunker with. The same kids who she helped throw fireworks at a mall-destroying-flesh-monster. No matter how weird the circumstance for the beginning of their friendship was, she had friends.
And, most importantly, she had Steve.
Steve knew her. He knew about her. And still, he was her friend.
She’d never once doubted him. She’d never worried about their friendship. He was the one person she felt completely and utterly safe around.
The kids thought it was weird. Dustin still tries to send them on dates together, Lucas says they’re the best couple he’s ever seen, and Max once tried to give Steve the shovel talk. (She’d taken an immediate liking to Robin and claims she would always choose Robin over Steve).
They know their relationship is nothing short of unconventional, but it works for them. They’re exactly right for each other.
Robin’s never felt so much like herself as she does when she’s with Steve. He’s the only person that actually knows her. And she’s the only person that actually knows him. It had taken her a while to get him to open up, but the moment he did, he never stopped. She encouraged that. And she noticed a shift in him when she did.
He was so much more relaxed. It was intriguing to watch the way the stiffened up around the kids, how easily he slipped back into his “Steve-persona”. Robin knew (and tried to tell him) that the kids would love him just as much if he was actually himself around them, but he always shrugged her off and told her it wasn’t a big deal.
She could see past the lies. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes after a full day hanging around the kids and doing his best to be what he thought they all wanted him to be. It got better when they went home. His eyes lit up again and he was back to being himself. She didn’t know what it would take to convince him that it was okay to be like that all the time.
It may have been a little hypocritical on her part. She hid almost as much from the rest of their friends as he did, but she could argue that what she was hiding was genuinely for her own safety.
Either way, Steve was nothing if not stubborn, and he had yet to give in. But that was a challenge for Robin to take on another day.
They’d settled into a routine. It was near perfect. They had time for their job, their friends, and for each other, all without stretching themselves too thin.
The weekend of Robin’s birthday, they’d moved into their own little apartment. Steve had pulled a lot of strings and dropped a lot of names to get it. It was well worth it. It was tiny, and there was only one bed - that didn’t make a difference, they usually shared a bed anyway - and it had a pitiful excuse for a kitchen. Their landlord was rude and their neighbors were loud, but it was their apartment, and it was perfect.
In all the scenarios she’d dreamt up in her life, never did Robin dream about being proposed to like this. A living room proposal, sure. But she couldn’t say she’d ever thought her best friend would propose to her in their bed.
“Hey, Rob?” She hummed to let him know she was still awake. “I think we should get married.”
It only took her a few moments to respond. “That’s a good idea.”
He sighed out a breath of relief. “Yeah?” She only just noticed how nervous he sounded.
Robin rolled over onto her left side so she could explain. “I mean, yeah. It makes sense.” She said. She wondered if she was being too nonchalant about this. It wasn’t a romantic proposal, so she didn’t feel like she needed to have a big reaction, but she didn’t want him to think she didn’t care either. “That would actually be really helpful.”
He nods. “Yeah. Just in case anything happens.” He gives her a few minutes to think about it, just in case she wants to back out. “Roll over,” he says quietly. She does. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer so her back is to his chest, just like they do every night. “Night, Robs.”
“Night, dingus.” She says, fondly. It’s the last part of their routine, and one of Robin’s favorites.
She hardly has nightmares anymore. At one time, shortly after Starcourt, her nightmares were constant. Ever since moving into their apartment, however, her nightmares had stopped completely.
Her brain knew Steve was right there, so it didn’t bother worrying about losing him. Steve still had them. He’d been in this a lot longer than Robin. She’d gotten good at helping him through them, though. They have what they call a “nightmare kit” buried somewhere in their nightstand. It hadn’t gotten bad enough to use it in quite a while, but it was comforting to know it was there regardless.
Robin decides they’re going to have a talk the next day after work. She’s still on the fence about making a pros and cons list, but the talk is definitely happening.
She brings it up right as soon as their door shuts. “You still want to get married?” Is her brilliant discussion starter.
“Yeah, of course.” Steve answers as he kicks off his shoes. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“Yup!” She answers, far too excitedly. Steve raises an eyebrow. “And third thoughts, and fourth thoughts. I think a lot.”
“Do you? I never would’ve guessed.” He teases. Robin rolls her eyes and swings open the refrigerator door, pulling out last night’s leftover pizza. “Alright, Birdie, lay it on me. What’ve you got?” He prompts.
She claps her hands together once and begins sharing her thoughts. “So, I did some research. All we need is proof of ID, a marriage license, and twenty bucks. Then we have to go to the courthouse and, y’know, actually get married.”
“Is it actually that easy?” He places two plates on the counter, putting aside two slices of pepperoni pizza for himself and three slices of cheese for Robin.
She nods, taking the pizza as soon as it’s on the plate. “It’s pretty much just paperwork. And religion, if that’s important to you.”
“Nope.” He shrugs, tossing his slices of pizza in the microwave and scrunching his nose up in disgust as Robin eats it cold. “That’s disgusting. Maybe we shouldn’t get married.” Steve teases, ruffling her hair before opening back up the microwave a few seconds before the timer ends so Robin doesn’t have to hear the loud beep.
“Wow. Rude.” She says through a mouthful of cold pizza. “Can’t believe my own fiance would say that to me.” Robin teases, earning an eye roll from Steve. He grabs her hand and pulls Robin to the couch to eat their dinner together on opposite sides.
“What else did you want to talk about?” He asks, stretching his legs out on the couch, intertwined with Robins.
“Are you sure you wanna marry me?” Her voice is small and weak, and she hates the way she can’t make herself sound more confident. “What if you meet a girl you actually love?”
Steve tilts his head and smiles at her. “I do love you. Sure, not romantically, but I love you more than I will ever love anyone else. And there is nobody that I would rather spend the rest of my life with.”
He nudges her foot with his. Robin’s heart is so full of love it feels like it’s about to burst. But she can’t make herself say the words.
“You don’t have to say it back,” He reminds her, the way he has countless times before. “I know.”
Robin clears her throat, which feels suspiciously tight and continues, “Are we gonna tell the kids?” It feels like a silly question, but it could cause some problems.
If they tell them, they’d be even more convinced that they’re dating. But… maybe that would be a good thing. It would steer away any rumors about Robin’s secret. “It’s up to you. If you don’t want people thinking we’re together, we don’t have to tell anyone. But it… might be safer for you if they do.”
Robin nods. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Yeah, okay. Fuck it, let’s get married.”
“Oh, God, do I have to make Dustin my best man?”