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They’re on their way home from the orthodontist when it occurs to Chrissy that this might be the quietest she’s ever seen Robin.
Usually, Robin’s restless, even when sitting still, and when she’s in the car she’s always reaching for the radio and singing along to the songs, or rapidly filling her in on the latest gossip from work, or even just humming to herself.
Now, though, she sits quietly, holding an ice pack to her mouth as she stares out of the window. It’s what she did when Chrissy started driving, and she has yet to see her move from it.
Steve had warned her, when he’d asked her to take Robin to her appointment, that Robin gets panicky when it comes to any kind of drugs, and so she might be unpredictable in the aftermath of having her wisdom teeth removed. He’d have gone with her himself, but Keith’s been coming down hard on them both taking time off at the same time, apparently, so he’d been unable to miss his shift.
She doesn’t mind looking after her girlfriend, though. The actual appointment had been mostly uneventful—Robin had been uneasy, like Steve had predicted, but the process had been quick and simple. The orthodontist had given Robin an anesthetic injection to numb the pain, and she’d tightly held Chrissy’s hand for the whole ten minutes it had taken, and then they’d be cleared to go home and recover.
Robin had obediently followed her out to the car and sat quietly in the passenger seat, and even as they’re nearly home, has not moved from her position.
“Robin?” Chrissy asks softly, chancing a look over at her. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Robin turns her head, blinking owlishly. For a second, she doesn’t respond, and when she does, it’s mumbled. “My teeth.”
“I know,” Chrissy says sympathetically. “You’re—”
“They’re sad,” Robin continues, as if she hadn’t spoken. “We’re sad.”
Chrissy pauses, letting the words register in her mind. It takes a moment to decipher what she’s saying, but, “You’re sad because your teeth… are sad?”
Robin nods, looking forlorn. “We were together for so long and now they’re… they’re gone. Taken…” she trails off.
When she doesn’t speak again, Chrissy glances over and sees that her face has screwed up.
Chrissy puts a hand on her thigh, gently squeezing it.
“I’m gonna be a gummy grandma,” Robin whimpers.
“Sweetheart, they only removed your wisdom teeth, not all of them.” She pats her leg comfortingly before realising Robin’s eyes have welled with tears. “Are you crying?”
“No,” Robin sobs. Then, “I don’t want my teeth to be stupid.”
“Your teeth will look fine, I promise.”
“Nooo, Chrissy.” Robin shakes her head frantically. “They took my wisdom teeth.”
As if to underscore her point, she clasps her cheeks, only to hiss with pain. Chrissy, understanding dawning, grabs for her hands with her free hand, gently moving them away from her face.
“Hey, don’t do that,” she murmurs. “Your teeth won’t be stupid, okay?”
Robin sniffles, blinking at her with wide eyes. “You promise?”
Her voice sounds small, hesitant, as if there’s a genuine concern about the cleverness of teeth and her potential lack of it.
Chrissy bites back a smile. “I promise. They’re smart, like you.”
Robin seems content with that answer, turning back to stare out of the window. They drive in quiet for a little while, but then Chrissy sees movement out the corner of her eye and looks over to see Robin staring intently at her.
She feels herself blush, even without knowing what she’s looking at. “All good?”
“I like you,” Robin blurts out.
It’s so unexpected that she can’t stop her laugh, but she does her best to turn it into a poor attempt at clearing her throat. “I like you, too.”
Robin gapes at her, her entire face flushing bright red, and then ducks her head, looking shy. It’s so cute that Chrissy kind of feels like she might explode, so she forces herself to focus on the road ahead instead of kissing her senseless. Well, more senseless than she already is.
When they finally arrive back at the apartment Robin shares with Steve, Chrissy guides her through the door by her wrist, gently steering her in the direction of her bedroom. They make it halfway through the living room before Robin abruptly halts.
Chrissy stops, too, turning to try and work out what’s stopped her.
“My teeth,” Robin says, which could mean anything.
Before Chrissy can work out what she means, Robin breaks away from her, beelining for the mirror in the corner of the room.
She manages to hurry over and take Robin’s hand, leading her away, even as she wriggles in protest.
“My teeth,” Robin repeats sadly. “I want to see them.”
Chrissy figures she should play along, subtly trying to walk them closer to the bedroom. “Why?”
Robin’s stubborn, though, stopping in her tracks for a second time. “I think they forgot to take them out.”
“They didn’t forget, don’t worry,” she says reassuringly.
“That’s what they want you to think,” Robin says ominously, and says nothing more about it, letting Chrissy tug her into her room.
She loves Robin’s room. It’s cluttered, but not untidy, full of things that are so distinctly Robin.
As she guides her to the bed, she passes a pinboard full of photos and scraps of paper. Robin’s pinned up the strip of photos they took last weekend when they’d found a photobooth during their date and scrambled into it. She can’t help smiling as she looks at it, eyes travelling to each little rectangle before coming to rest on the last one. They’re kissing in it, Robin’s arms wrapped around her waist, and her heart had felt like it had leapt into her throat at the thrill of it. Robin had shoved the photo between the pages of her book, eyes shining, and Chrissy had fallen a little more in love with her at the sight of her.
Robin groans as she lies down, pulling her attention back to her, and Chrissy eases her into a more comfortable position.
“Alright?” she murmurs, and Robin nods, tucking into her side. She winds a hand into Robin’s hair, scratching lightly at her scalp and watching her eyes flutter closed.
Every time it looks like she’s going to drift off, Robin winces, forcing her eyes open again.
Chrissy frowns, concerned. “Are you okay?”
Robin shifts to look at her. Chrissy waits for her answer, but Robin just continues to stare.
“Robin?”
“You’re my favourite and I love you.” The words seem to burst out of her, coming out in a rush as if she couldn’t contain them any longer. Chrissy feels her heart swell up, love surging through her bones, but before she can say anything in response, Robin’s expression turns stricken. “Don’t tell Steve. Steve is my favourite, too. Oh, no.”
“Oh no?” Chrissy prompts. “Why oh no?”
“You’ll have to share the bed in my heart,” Robin says, looking genuinely troubled. This still doesn’t explain the concern, until she lowers her voice and adds, whispering conspiratorially, “and Steve snores.”
It’s never been harder to suppress a giggle in her life. “That’s okay,” Chrissy says, lips trembling with the effort of keeping the laughter out of her tone. “I’ll wear earplugs.”
Robin relaxes once more, seemingly satisfied. Her eyes start to close again, only for her to suddenly sit bolt upright, looking alarmed.
“Where’s Steve?” She looks around, wide-eyed, as if Steve might reveal himself from hiding in the corner of the room. “Did they take Steve too?”
“Steve’s working, baby,” she soothes, gently easing her back down. “He’ll be home later with ice cream, remember?”
Apparently it’s the wrong thing to say. Robin wrenches free from her touch, struggling upwards again.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Chrissy sits up, placing her hands up as if comforting a wild animal. “You’re okay, what’s the matter?”
“They took Steve.” Robin’s distressed, clearly fighting to get free from the covers and failing miserably. “They took my teeth and now they’ve taken my Steve and they’re gonna take his teeth or his fingernails—They’re gonna rip his fingernails out, with their—their tools, I need to—Let me go, I need to find Steve and bring him home safe—”
Lost, Chrissy shakes her head. “The dentists don’t have Steve, okay? They’re not taking his teeth or his fingernails.”
“Not the dentists, Chrissy, the Russians.” Robin sounds close to tears, apparently completely nonsensical now, because as far as Chrissy’s aware there isn’t a single Russian resident in Hawkins, and she’s pretty sure if there’d been some kind of Russian invasion she’d have heard about it. At the least, nobody had mentioned any Russians when filling her in on the monsters running rampant, and they don’t seem to be a concern to Robin right now.
“Listen—” she tries, but Robin’s clearly not listening anymore, finally wrestling herself free and all but tumbling out of the bed.
“He doesn’t know anything.” Robin’s crying now, tears slipping down her cheeks in a rush. Chrissy’s heart clenches. “They’re gonna hurt him, I’ve gotta—I’ve gotta—”
“We can call Steve at work,” Chrissy interrupts, voice firm. “You can hear he’s okay for yourself, see?”
Robin wavers. She doesn’t look convinced, one shoe in her hand, but she doesn’t resist when Chrissy guides her to the phone, watching as she punches in the number to Family Video.
She hopes beyond everything else that Steve’s not busy with a customer. She has no idea what Robin’s so stressed about, but something tells her that if Steve doesn’t answer, it’s only going to agitate her more. She supposes if worst comes to the worst she can drive them both to Family Video, but that’s not exactly helping Robin to rest, and that’s assuming Robin even calms down enough to get in the car.
“Hi, you’ve reached Family Video. How can I help you today?”
“STEVE!” Robin lights up, snatching the phone to her ear. “Are you okay?”
Chrissy just about hears Steve’s quiet laugh. “Hi, Robin. I’m fine, just stacking shelves. How are you doing, bud?”
“I miss you,” she blurts out. Her words are starting to slur. “Steve, Steve, I won’t let ‘em take your teeth like they took mine, I’ll, I’ll fight the Russians off for your teeth.”
There’s a slight pause, presumably in which Steve is trying to decipher her sentence. He must work it out faster than Chrissy does, because he replies, “I miss you too. I’ll be home soon, okay? Let Chrissy look after you in the meantime.”
Robin turns away with the phone, whispering loudly, “Steve, Steve, Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“I really really like her.”
Chrissy’s heart flutters. She hears Steve laugh again.
“I know, Rob. I think she really really likes you, too.”
“I do,” Chrissy says softly. Robin glances back at her, no longer crying, her cheeks flushing a sweet shade of pink.
Whatever she says next, it’s mumbled and completely incomprehensible, so Chrissy gently pries the phone from her and takes her hand.
“Hi, Steve.” As Chrissy speaks, Robin shuffles around and comes up behind her, resting her chin on the top of her head. Chrissy just about manages to stifle her giggle.
“Hey, Chris.” He sounds amused. “How’s she holding up?”
“She’s fine, I think. A little high on dentist drugs, but fine.”
“Yeah, I gathered that part.” She can hear the smile in his voice, impossibly fond. “Try getting her to take a nap, if you can. I know you’ll make sure she’s alright.”
“Always,” she agrees. “See you later, Steve.”
“See you.”
She hangs up the phone, rotating around to face Robin again.
It’s a job and a half wrangling her back to bed, but finally she manages it, and the two of them lie side by side under the covers.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Robin turn her head. She can feel her eyes on her, watching her, unblinking.
Chrissy turns to meet her gaze, giving her a small smile, only for tears to start rolling down Robin’s cheeks. She’s rarely seen Robin cry before, let alone this much, so she can’t help the alarm that rises in her throat. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I—I love you—so much,” Robin sniffles. “My heart—can’t take it.” She tries, and fails, to take a deep breath, her voice cracking.
“Oh, baby,” she coos, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, “I love you, too.”
For a moment, Robin doesn’t seem to react, only stare back at her. It’s only when her face starts turning purple that Chrissy realises she’s stopped breathing.
“Robin, breathe.”
Robin exhales hard, nearly dropping her ice pack. How she hasn’t dropped it until this point is a miracle.
“I’m going to marry you,” Robin mumbles, clumsily wiping her tears away. “I’m going to marry you so hard. I’m gonna be all, this is my wife Chrissy, and everyone’s going to be, like, woah, and they’re gonna be so jealous, like they should be.”
Chrissy hums, laying out her arm for Robin to rest her head on. Robin immediately does so, shuffling closer to her.
“The world’s going to have to get really cool really quickly if we want to get married,” she says gently.
“We’ll get married in the Upside Down,” Robin says stubbornly. “It can’t be illegal there. Steve can officiate.”
She doesn’t doubt it. Steve would go into the Upside Down with them and officiate the ceremony if it meant making Robin happy. She’s pretty sure if he could marry them himself, he’d be getting his minister licence as they speak.
Robin taps her, getting her attention back. “Chris. Chrissy. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Let’s go. Let’s go right now.”
“To… get married?” she asks, still not quite caught up.
“Yes.” Robin, impatient, struggles to sit up. “Let’s get married.”
She laughs softly. “We can’t get married right now, Robin.”
Robin stops. “Oh.” She’s quiet a moment, then, “Duh. Steve’s still at work.”
“And you need to rest,” Chrissy reminds her, because that feels easier than trying to highlight how bad an idea it would be to even think of finding a gate to another dimension, let alone in Robin’s current state.
She gets an indignant huff in response from her girlfriend, who slumps back down obediently, then whines quietly as her cheek presses against the mattress.
“C’mere.” Chrissy shifts to prop herself up against the pillows, letting Robin wriggle until she’s more or less sitting in her lap. She winds her legs around her, carefully easing her down until Robin’s lying against her, her head resting on her chest.
Robin hums, her eyes fluttering closed as Chrissy starts lightly raking her fingers through her hair. She mumbles something, but it’s too soft for her to make out, and before she can ask her to repeat herself, soft snoring starts up.
She’s careful to stay still, letting Robin doze against her, her heart doing joyful backflips in her chest. Not for the first time, she’s overcome with the intensity of her love for her, surging through her veins, her bones, the entirety of herself.
Later, she knows, when she’s no longer feeling the effects of the anaesthetic, Robin will be flustered about everything that’s taken place. She’ll blush prettily and hide her face in her sweater the way she always does when she’s embarrassed, and she’ll complain about the mortification of Chrissy experiencing it, but Chrissy wouldn’t exchange even a second of this for anything.
And why would she? Right now, everything is perfect. She’s never been happier than in this moment, and she’s never been more in love than she is right now.
They deserve it, she thinks. A little bit of peace, after everything. Their own little happily ever after.
With Robin in her arms, that’s something she’ll never doubt.