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The weeks following the earthquake went by strangely, as expected. The school gymnasium transformed into a shelter for anyone who had lost their homes, and the school itself became significantly smaller. After the extended spring break was officially over, classes were packed in with other classes, school spirit was lost and everyone in Robin’s grade seemed to just be muddling along until graduation.
Everyone except Nancy. She’d showed up for the first week or so, keeping her head down and doing her schoolwork in the back of the class whilst barely listening to the teacher (and to be fair, she didn’t really need to). The Weekly Streak was miraculously still going, the perseverant nature of young journalists outweighing the lack of recourses and facilities. Candace Greene would rather handwrite each issue herself than let a week go by without one. But soon it became clear that Nancy wasn’t a part of that group anymore. Robin got the impression that something had happened between them, but god knows what.
A week of school went by and Nancy was just no longer showing up. No one noticed, the teachers couldn’t be bothered to take attendance anymore due to the sheer amount of kids skipping these days, and classes were still packed like sardines to the point where it gave the impression that everyone was here. But not everyone was. Robin noticed her absence, even if her English seat had been filled by some guy from the wrestling team. Robin noticed, no one else seemed to.
Three days went by until Robin stopped giving her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was sick, sure, but Robin didn’t take Nancy as the kind of person that would skip three days of school for a kidney transplant, let alone a common cold. She knocked tentatively on the Wheeler’s door and was greeted by a surprised, yet pleased, face.
“Robin, right?” Mrs Wheeler asked, mixing bowl in one hand and her youngest daughter’s hand in the other. Holly had some kind of cake mixture smeared around her lips, it was clear the two were busy.
“Sorry to barge in. I was… Nancy hasn’t been in school.” Robin stated, immediately worried she’d maybe dropped Nancy in it for letting that slip.
Instead, Mrs Wheeler just sighed. “Yeah, I know, she’s…” she trailed off. “Why don’t you go upstairs?” she smiled, it seemed fake. It made Robin all the more worried.
Robin was cautious as she knocked on Nancy’s bedroom door. They’d only just become friends, in the middle of the end of the world, of all times. She didn’t want to scare the poor girl away by being overbearing. The door handle turned, the door opening limply just a few inches, leaving Robin to push it all the way.
Nancy sat on her bed. She was in a t-shirt and shorts, very un-Nancy in Robin’s books. At school, at least, she’d always show up dressed in layers upon layers of pastel cardigans, blouses, sweaters, whatever made her look the most librarian possible. Now she just looked… not sloppy, because Robin spent most of her time in t-shirts and she couldn’t be a hypocrite, but not smart and proper as she usually did.
“Hey.” Robin spoke up. “Not been at school.”
Nancy shrugged. “There’s no point. Early acceptance, right? Showing up was just a formality.”
Robin wasn’t entirely sure that was how it worked, but she was still waiting on her acceptance letter, so she didn’t dare question it. “Still, what about newspaper? You loved that job.”
Nancy shifted. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” she mumbled, tensing up and averting her gaze and Robin may not be the greatest at social cues but this one was clearly a ‘get out’ cue.
But Robin doesn’t give up that easily. “Okay.” she took a seat on the bed. “What do you wanna talk about?”
Nancy looked back up, surprised. Robin got the feeling Karen so eagerly sent her upstairs because she herself hadn’t gotten past that ‘get out’ cue. Perhaps Nancy secretly wanted her to.
“What?” Nancy asked.
“Or, not.” Robin backtracked. She could talk for anything, but even she knew words were hard. “We could watch a movie, or play cards or something. I don’t really know many card games, but I’m good at Go Fish. Well, kind of. I only really played with Steve, and he learnt my strategy, so now it’s kind of luck-based with him.”
Nancy stared at Robin with a blank face, processing all the information dumped on her. Ten seconds passed until she turned her head, making her final decision. Spring break had quickly taught Robin that Nancy Wheeler was intense, but god, even this simple question she seemed to deliberate over as if it were life or death.
“Movie.” Nancy finally said. “Just one.”
It ended up being Ghostbusters, because Mike only had sci-fi in his VHS collection and Robin wasn’t about to trek to Family Video. And anyways, Nancy seemed enthusiastic about it (enthusiastic was a very strong word, but she didn’t turn it down). The two became slightly engrossed in the movie, until it eventually ended and suddenly they were thrown into silence. The awkward shifting Nancy had done earlier returned.
Karen called for dinner downstairs. “You should go now.” Nancy said, standing up and getting ready to shove Robin out.
“Maybe I can ask your mom if she has enough food.” Robin hoped.
Nancy shook her head adamantly. “You should go. It’s getting dark soon. Don’t wanna be out at night nowadays.”
Robin was forced to agree with that statement, but it was 5:30 and almost summer, so dark ‘soon’ was an exaggeration. Nevertheless, she knew when to take her leave, and so grabbed her jacket and waved goodbye.
Just as she took the first step down the stairs, Nancy emerged from her room, hurriedly blurting out “Call me when you get home.” and then shutting the door.
Robin made sure to do just that. It quickly became clear that it wasn’t a ‘call me when you get home so we can keep talking’ kind of request. Nancy said thank you, and hung up. And that was it. And Robin was left wondering what went on in her mind.
+
The next day Robin found herself itching with anticipation, checking the classroom clock every two minutes until eventually the end of school bell rang. She made the horrifically long cycle to the Wheeler’s because the night before she’d promised herself not to give up. Karen greeted her once more, and when she knocked on the bedroom door, this time Nancy answered properly. Which was progress.
Today’s chosen activity was playing cards, where Robin thrashed Nancy at Go Fish once before Nancy caught onto Robin’s ‘strategy’, and then once Nancy got bored of winning, showed her a book of animals she’d stolen from a library at the age of ten. Robin had laughed at this fact, surprised Nancy Wheeler of all people would steal from a library, but then Nancy had this horrified look on her face and insisted it was an accident and she didn’t mean it and Robin was forced to let it go because she couldn’t bear to see Nancy cry over the immense library debt she was in. She suddenly understood why she’d been so stand-offish towards that librarian that one time… or the librarian had been so stand-offish to her.
Her fingers shook as she turned each page, and now that Robin thought about it, her hands shook during Go Fish, as well. As soon as Karen called for dinner Robin was getting ushered out of the house and she twigged it all in about half a second and before thinking blurted out “Have you eaten recently?”
Nancy stood there wondering whether to lie, but she knew Robin wasn’t an idiot and so just shook her head solemnly.
“Why not?” Robin said, making sure to sound calm and gentle.
“They don’t let me eat upstairs.” Nancy mumbled. “Mike used to do it a lot and he always forgot to put the dishes away and had, like, a whole ecosystem growing under his bed so my dad banned it.” she rambled in one breath, the longest sentence spoken in days but an obvious distraction from the fact that she hadn’t eaten yet.
Robin furrowed her brow, but stopped herself from asking anymore questions because she didn’t want to get booted out at this point. “Maybe they will if I’m here. We could call it a sleepover and order pizza and then I’ll promise her we’ll clean up, right?”
“I don’t want a sleepover.” Nancy whispered, looking guilty for even saying it. But Robin couldn’t care less.
“That’s fine. I’ll just leave afterwards, say my mom called me home, or something.” She reached out to touch Nancy’s arm, Nancy tensed up a little. “It’ll be fine.”
And so that’s just what they did. The pizza was okay and Nancy ate most of it, and then inevitably kicked Robin out, not before demanding she call her when she gets home. And Robin did. Of course she did.
+
It became a routine, a whole week went by of daily visits where slowly Robin chipped away at Nancy’s exterior. There were still so many questions left unanswered, but she did know that she’d left the Weekly Streak because they wouldn’t let her add a memorial section for Eddie. She knew that Nancy didn’t eat downstairs anymore because all her parents seemed to do these days was fight, and forced family dinners seemed to be their boxing ring. Nancy didn’t even tell her that, Robin worked it out based on the raised voices and eventual slamming of doors. She didn’t know what they were fighting about, and Nancy was dead against telling her.
Despite there being metaphorical closed doors, Nancy greeted Robin more and more cheerfully each day, coming to expect her company. They occupied their evenings with whatever conversation topics Nancy allowed, and whatever games Robin could find in Mike’s basement that had enough pieces still there to be playable. Robin knew Nancy was a genius, but she was still more than enough to keep the competition balanced and steady. Nancy was a sore loser, she learnt that quickly, and if any game was based on luck then she was better off not playing it at all if she wanted to save herself a ten minute lecture on how Nancy could’ve won, if the dice had been slightly luckier. God help whatever poor blackjack dealer would have to deal her, should Nancy ever go to a casino. Although, now that Robin thought about it, she wouldn’t put it past Nancy to be a card counter.
Each evening ended the same, a meal and a quick goodbye, the last words always being “Call me when you get home”. Except this particular evening Robin’s bike chain broke and she had to walk her bike home, ending up twenty minutes later than usual. And although, as promised, she called the moment she stepped through her doorway and explained everything to Nancy, it was clear the tone had shifted.
“I’m really sorry, Nancy.” Robin repeated through the phone. “I’ll get it fixed before school, the chain will be okay.”
“It’s fine, I promise.” Nancy sniffed, and just for a second Robin wondered if she’d been crying. “Don’t rush fixing the chain on my account. You don’t have to come tomorrow.”
“B-but I want to come.” Robin replied.
“I don’t want you to. Bye, Robin.“ And she hung up.
Robin knew Nancy wasn’t an irrational person, she couldn’t be mad over a bike chain accidentally breaking. Something was wrong, and usually when something was wrong Robin was over there with a smile on her face and a movie to watch, but this time… this time she wasn’t so sure.
+
Robin left it a few days, for good measure. In hindsight, she had been over there every day for a week, if Nancy was feeling smothered she couldn’t blame her. Maybe this bike chain business was just the excuse Nancy needed to get her away. It stung, Robin couldn’t deny it stung, but maybe it was fair enough.
But something still irked at her. While she occupied her days with schoolwork, Nancy was still nowhere in sight. And that was one of the few questions strictly prohibited. And thinking back to spring break, to the strong leader who took charge of the group of kids and shot at demons and kept going like there was no question about it - that was not the girl she’d been spending the past week with. No, that girl was reluctant to do anything, scared to eat downstairs, refused to let Robin stay over despite spending a week sleeping on Mike’s basement floor with six other kids just a month ago. She was different. And Robin didn’t know her long enough to know which one was the real Nancy but she had watched Nancy never skip a day of school, and lead the Weekly Streak with an iron fist. She knew that Nancy for four years now, even if for most of it, it was out of the corner of her eye.
She knocked on Nancy’s bedroom door. There was no answer. She couldn’t be sure whether stating it was Robin and not anyone else would be more or less likely to get one, so instead she just softly turned the handle.
Nancy was in bed, and Robin initially thought she was asleep but as she got closer, she noticed Nancy’s eyes open, staring at the carpet with her knees hugged to her chest, just peeking out over the blankets. Her cheeks were red, and despite being curled up in bed, she looked so tired. And suddenly Robin felt awful for missing out on those three days where she could’ve prevented whatever this was.
She crouched down in front of her, placing her hand over the blanket where Nancy’s leg rested underneath. “Hey…” she whispered.
Nancy cracked immediately, tears spilling out faster than rainfall. She nestled her face between her knees, blubbering out a muffled “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, no, what are you sorry for?” Robin fought the urge to lean in closer and wrap herself around the girl.
“I was rude to you. I did want you to come, I really did.” Nancy cried, sitting up a little and closing the gap between herself and Robin, falling apart on Robin’s shoulder.
“Okay, that doesn’t matter now, I promise.” Robin said, and she meant it. She had questions upon questions upon questions now, but considering the girl in her arms could barely gasp out a breath, Robin figured a sentence would be too much.
They sat there, for ages it seemed, until it really did become too dangerous for Robin to leave. But Nancy didn’t want her to, she didn’t even let go of her, not for a second. Robin had to get the two of them into bed and under blankets until they both drifted off. The next thing Robin knew, the morning sun was hitting her face and her neck was killing her from the position she’d fallen asleep in. Nancy was already awake, buried in blankets she’d stolen from Robin through the night.
Robin offered to stay, practically insisted it, but eventually Nancy got the last word in, and Robin was off to school. As soon as those god-awful six hours was over, she was back at the Wheeler’s and whatever progress she’d made that night felt immediately undone as she found Nancy in almost the same position she’d left her in.
“You need to eat, at least.” Robin said, after asking a few questions that were quickly shut down.
“Not hungry.” Nancy mumbled half-heartedly, within minutes Robin got her taking small bites at a sandwich.
“Movie?” Robin suggested, getting a head shake as an answer. “Cards? Books?” all gave the same result.
She sighed, feeling at a loss. “Please, just tell me what happened.”
Nancy paused, once again deliberating this seemingly ‘life or death’ situation. But eventually, she shook her head, albeit looking a lot less confident in her answer than all the previous times.
+
The next few days went by with the same routine, just small changes each time. Robin went over, made a famous Robin Buckley Sandwich, and spent her evening there. Sometimes Nancy ate the whole thing, sometimes Robin ate a half, but as long as she ate something Robin was happy. She quickly realised her perspective had been all wrong, judging her ‘progress’ day by day as if she was watching the school clock tick by waiting for the minute hand to hit 12. It wasn’t like that, the seconds moved forward and backwards and sometimes Nancy didn’t even sit up, and sometimes they played games, or watched movies, and eventually made their way downstairs. Sometimes really good days were followed by really bad ones, and sometimes things were just average. The key to all of it, Robin came to learn, was to not expect anything. No more questions, no more forcing her foot in the door. Nancy was different now but she was still the natural leader she’d been during spring break, and eventually, on her own terms, they would talk. A few words a day, or long conversations about anything and everything. Robin treasured every syllable because she knew she’d been given them, rather than having taken them.
“My brain, my body, it’s like it’s broken. I don’t feel hungry, and I’m always tired and even the thought of going to school, or even just downstairs, it makes me all- all…” Nancy sighed. “I don’t get it. I walked into the Upside Down and looked Henry Creel in the eye and practically blew him up and now I can’t even look at my mom. What happened to me?”
It was said after a good day, and no more words were spoken for the rest of the night. Robin didn’t need them.
“That time… with the bike chain. I know it wasn’t your fault and I promise I was never mad at you. But I just- those twenty minutes when I didn’t know why you weren’t calling, I couldn’t stop thinking about- about Vecna or a Demogorgon getting you and I know you’re fine and it was a false alarm but at the time it just… if you stopped coming over I’d stop being worried.”
That was said three weeks after the incident occurred in a teary confession. Robin wanted to vow to always call on time for the rest of her life, but that would never be realistic, so instead she told her. “Nancy, you might not wanna hear this, but I don’t think you’re ever gonna stop being worried. What happened… with Barb, and Fred, and everyone else… it changes you. Changes the way your brain works.”
And it sucked to hear, and it sucked to say it. But just because Nancy was changed, didn’t mean it would be for the last time.
Karen Wheeler, who did all her worrying from the sidelines, was the next person Nancy truly opened up to. It was in a vague, spotty way that hid the truth but told Karen enough that it might as well have been the truth. She knew Barb died, she knew Fred died, and she knew Nancy. That was all she needed to know. One day she sat down with Ted and talked things through, properly talked it all over without the shouting and the fake smiles and happy dinners. They got easier. It wasn’t like Ted and Karen had learned to love each other overnight, in fact Robin suspected the opposite had happened. They’d learned to stop trying to love each other. And now no one was smiling at the dinner table, but no one had tense shoulders or held breaths either. It seemed everyone had learnt to coexist, and for now that was the best they could hope for.
Mike was next, followed by all his friends. And quickly, all of them became united amidst all their grief. It wasn’t like they all sat in a circle confessing secrets, but it was a support group. No doubt about that.
Nancy never went back to school, unfortunately graduation day had passed before she deemed herself ready. But she spent her summers with Robin out and about in the slowly rebuilding town. Both girls had the terrible feeling that it was being rebuilt only for it to all be destroyed once more, but that didn’t make it pointless if it made them happy right now.
Robin always called when she got home. Nancy always told her to. Most of the time Robin called in a timely manner, occasionally she was late. At first it was hard, fighting every urge not to go straight back to the Wheeler’s because Nancy was having a panic attack and Robin felt helpless being over the phone. But both of them knew it wouldn’t help anything, and soon the panic attacks slowed, and got easier and easier until they barely existed at all.
And then, one day, years later, Nancy forgot to remind her at all. And Robin forgot to call. And nothing happened.