Chapter Text
“So?”
The first time he asks her, Steve tilts his head to the side and focuses on the position of the scissors. He doesn't cut until he's completely sure of the movement. He even ends up clenching his tongue between his teeth, so lost in concentration. In the mirror, Robin is obviously looking at him, not her own reflection. She thinks the white sweater looks great on him, hugging his hips in just the right place and wrapping around his arms like a second skin. It stretches along his torso as he bends over and stands on his toes to get a full view of his best friend's head.
"It's a great buy, really," she murmurs, distracted, without even hearing the question she was asked.
Steve is too focused to realize that Robin is referring to his sweater. He raises his eyebrows. After a second well-considered cut, he pierces her with a glance through the mirror.
“Do you realize that you spent two months deconstructing the ways I addressed girls and teaching me feminism, yet now you’re talking about her as if she’s an object?”
"Huh?!" Robin looks at him, bewildered and trembling in her chair, before abruptly turning around and risking getting the scissors in her eye.
"Excuse me, but when something fits you well, smells clean, and is soft to the touch, isn't it a great purchase?"
"What kind of problems do you have? How did we go from 'she'll never agree to go out with me' to 'it's a good purchase'?"
"Oh!" A flash of understanding lit up Robin's eyes, followed by an embarrassed but genuinely amused chuckle. "Oh."
Steve shakes his head, puts his hands on her shoulders, turns her around, and holds her still so he can finish cutting her hair. He remains completely annoyed, though.
"You were talking about Vickie; I was talking about your stupid sweater, Dingus. It's obvious that I would never refer to anyone, especially a girl, in those terms. You should have known that!"
"You only use one of your three thousand brain cells. How am I supposed to keep up with you? Idiot."
Robin bursts out laughing at the clumsy attempt to insult her while complimenting her, however inaccurate the number may be. Oh no. She realizes she's saying it as she thinks it.
"I appreciate the effort, but I want you to know that we have at least 86 billion neurons. By giving me only three thousand, you've doubled the offense of underestimating my intellectual capacity."
"But you know," Steve interrupts, blushing slightly, "I did it out of ignorance, not malice. Now, please stay still and answer my first question.” Robin continues to giggle, trying to stay still, while Steve loses himself in a distraught whisper that sounds like, "Unbelievable how we wasted five whole minutes talking to each other without saying a damn thing."
That's how it's always easy for Robin to talk to Steve about what's going on in her life. She's never been used to this before. She feels like she could do it; for once, her habit of caring about other people's business and the secrets of the world around her is paying off. She had only once thought she had done completely wrong by eavesdropping on Steve and Henderson's conversation about the Russians—literally when those same Russians had injected her with truth serum—but all the other times, she had felt grateful.
Her old obsession with Steve, who didn't even know her name, finally made sense. She now understood that it was all planned out: Dingus would cut her hair in her room once a month, ask her questions about her love life, and take care of her and her world, even though Hawkins was falling apart and a horrible monster was targeting kids their age.
Robin tells him that the girl was probably just a challenge at first and that knowing they were the only two girls interested in boobs in town definitely influenced why she approached her. Now, everything is falling into place because she's a good girl who talks a lot and sometimes says nonsense. She's like Robin, and maybe it's the atmosphere of terror, but Robin feels that their relationship could work, at least as friends. Who knows what might happen later?
Steve watches her in the mirror, taking great care not to miss a single strand of hair or a single snip of the scissors as they caress the comb. He's good at it. He may not have any formal training as a barber or psychologist, but he knows how to do it well. He's always attentive and always there, taking care of her like no one else ever has. Perhaps he wanted to know this same maternal spirit when he was younger. When his father made him believe that he was owed everything, that every girl should know his name while he pretended not to remember theirs, and that a baseball bat would make him the idol of the class, he would have preferred to learn how to comfort his friends, how to foster lasting bonds, and how to embrace anyone who needed it without fear.
"Oi, Hawkins to Dingus, Dingus, do you copy?" Robin says, waving her hand in the air and trying to move it in front of Steve's face using their reflections in the mirror as a reference.
Steve frowns slightly, realizing he has been concentrating too hard. He takes Robin's hand and slaps it lightly. Then, he takes two steps back to make sure everything is straight. It is. He sighs with relief before ruffling her hair to signal that she is free to talk to him if she wants to; otherwise, she owes him nothing else.
Robin gets up, almost twirling, takes off the barber's coat that Steve always keeps ready in the room, and runs to grab a broom to clean up every trace of blonde hair covering the floor. Steve reaches out to ask her to let him do it but stops halfway when he hears her humming "Upside Down" by Diana Ross with a casualness that strikes him. It reveals that, yes, everything is falling apart - Max is in a hospital bed, and they don't know if she'll ever wake up; Eddie is dead and associated with Satanists; Dustin appears in that Hellfire Club photo and risks being banned from social activities forever and being his friend won't help him redeem himself - but at least the two of them are doing well. They don't need to rebuild like the fucking broken city. Steve and Robin are the dynamic duo and that it's so, so perfect.
"Hey, can you cover for me with the others tonight?" she asks, suddenly putting the broom away and throwing her cut hair into the small basket under the desk.
"What? This is the second time this has happened. You know I'm running out of excuses."
"This would be the second time in a row that I've stood Vickie up, Steve! And you know what that would mean.”
Steve knows. He remembers how many times he behaved that way with girls just to piss them off and make them want him more. Robin, however, isn't like him. She's gallant and, above all, genuinely cares about others. She dedicates one evening a week to the group and another to Vickie. Considering the need for help in the city, otherwise, everyone sees each other more or less every day.
"Listen, Rob, you know I'm perfectly comfortable being your one and only best friend," he says.
Robin raises her eyebrows but doesn't interrupt. "But I'd like to remind you that we have Sherlock Holmes in our group, and she's already started investigating your behavior."
"And you let her do it."
"Yes, of course, but you said you were considering telling her."
"True. But, frankly, have you noticed that Nance has other matters to investigate?”
"Like the fact that her relationship with Byers is bullshit?"
"Like," Robin scolds him, approaching with a reproachful look, "what the hell happened to Vecna? Or how to wake Max up? I don't think she wants to hear me talk about my drama.”
Steve snorts in an act of defeat. Robin realizes that it must be hard for him to lie to everyone for her sake. They end up lying down on Steve's bed, enjoying each other's company in silence. In the end, an underlying sadness permeates their days. It's tragic to stand by and watch the city burn while feeling powerless against death and devastation.
"You know," Robin finally says, breaking the silence. "Sometimes I think about how brave we've become because of this experience. For example, think about Lucas or Dustin, or me. I've gone from being an angry girl who hated boys to a woman who is self-aware and embraces her differences. When my mother criticizes me and points out how wrong I am, I don't care anymore. I just want to be myself, you know?"
Steve understands. He lost everything he was before to become who he is now.
"I just feel so bitter because, even though I know exactly who I am, I can't be that person. I have to lie to Vickie, and there are so many stories I can't share with her. Those stories would help her understand how I changed. On the other hand, I've joined the coolest and most outcast group of friends in Hawkins, but I can't reveal where I go when I miss D&D campaigns or meetings. I've always kept secrets, but never had people around me that I wanted to reveal them to. Now that I have them... I have to keep quiet. And, clearly, I don't know how to keep quiet."
It's true, but the part of Steve who is still sweetly and platonically in love with Robin would listen to her forever. He likes all the talk and how it always touches him. He wants to help her, but he knows that listening is the best thing he can do.
"I don't think you should hide it from everyone. If I had to bet on someone else who would be happy to know, it would be Nancy."
They stare at the ceiling all afternoon until Robin tells him that she's going to the outdoor cinema with Vickie as part of the volunteer initiative to keep the kids' spirits up.
Steve drives her there because she still hasn't accepted the loan to enroll in driving school. In the end, though, he's fine with that. He doesn't mind listening to her sing along to every hit song, swaying her freshly cut hair and moving to the beat in her seat.
She's his best friend. Maybe he'd even do it all over again just to share this moment.