follow up to my last post because @yourstrullyme asked but rockin robin is always on in the wheeler household
the first time it's on, it's just nancy listening, alone in her room with the door closed and the volume turned low, because robin is nervous as hell and told them all that if she catches any of them listening she's going to hunt them down with steve's baseball bat. but nancy also knows how excited she was, so she listens in secret and yeah, robin is nervous, her words come out fast and breathless but she's still somehow so articulate, so clever and so fun, somehow, despite everything. and hell, her music picks are good, too
robin settles into the role quickly, and she gains enough confidence that she doesn't care who's listening--which is good, because suddenly everyone is listening. not just the kids as they bike to school, or el resting in between training sessions, or nancy sitting at her desk and organizing notes about what the military's been up to, but everyone. all of hawkins. it's on in the few businesses that remain open, on in the streets on nice days, car windows rolled down and volume turned up. people who used to bully robin in school now listen to it every day between classes or at lunch. it's so popular that the military starts giving robin scripts to read to inform hawkins of new rules or curfew changes or excuses for the scuffle that broke out by the fence last week.
robin doesn't take kindly to that, but her choices are either comply or lose her job, and all of them are bored and restless as they wait for vecna to show himself again. so she does as she's told, with plenty of snark and as many loopholes as she can manage.
and it gets nancy thinking. maybe the military aren't the only ones who can use rockin robin to their advantage
as always, she comes up with the idea, and robin takes it and runs. she gives them keywords to listen for, spends hours plotting out and memorizing song choices that would work. she keeps them connected, from the radio station to the high school to the middle of the woods
and in the meantime, everybody listens
because even without the secret codes that come so naturally to her nancy can't help but listen in awe every time, robin is good at this. there's a certain charisma that comes in with the confidence, a warm, self-assured charm that feels out of place among the suspended apocalypse and the military occupation, and yet she never fails to sound sincere. robin tells her, during one of their late nights working together at the station and avoiding the boys, that she loves it more than she thought she would. that the world might be ending and she might be avoiding her home and her parents like the plague, but she's somehow never been happier
nancy can't relate, not really, not with her deferred acceptance to emerson and the way jonathan and steve compete over her and the frustration that is weekly all-nighters spent scouring every map of hawkins looking for anywhere vecna might be hiding in the upside down, but she can almost feel it when robin's voice comes over the radio
which is often, nearly every day, because WSQK is always on. not just in nancy's car or on the boys' radios, but on the kitchen stereo, too. holly loves to sneak in and turn the dial, smiling at mike or nancy for approval. she raves about robin's shows, memorizing as many musician fun facts as possible so she can ask nancy more about them later. if they're not already listening to it in the afternoon, she asks someone to put it on. she gets suddenly shy the first time rockin robin comes over to the wheeler house, and despite everyone's reminders that she's met robin before, she remains starstruck all through dinner
robin is sweet with her. she spends more time talking to holly than nancy, answers every question she asks even after ted tells holly to stop pestering her. she makes a point of asking holly her favorite song, and the very next morning, "I Think We're Alone Now" plays as the kids ride their bikes to school
nancy listens along as she drives to the station, and she doesn't realize she's smiling until robin grins back at her from the booth
and it's not just holly, either. will becomes obsessed, more than any of the guys. he listens religiously and starts asking around for copies of robin's most repeated tracks. he asks robin if he can borrow some tapes one day. jonathan makes a face, about to object or at least tease him, but nancy swats his arm to keep him quiet and turns back to will and robin, watching the way they both light up as they talk. there's an ease, calm and compelling, that settles over robin as she waves her hands through the air, or spins around to grab a tape from her stack in the booth and press it into will's hands, or bumps into his shoulder and tells him to give it a try. will thanks her, eyes glued to the cassette, and robin looks over his head at nancy, her eyes bright, her eyes still so warm
and karen will laugh, sometimes, like when robin jokes on air one morning about the military and unruly citizens and maybe they should start recruiting hawkins moms, who are somehow able to keep their families fed and their kids in school and their houses clean and tidy even with the world on fire, making them more effective and more useful than even the grumpiest soldiers guarding the MAC-Z.
and one day robin gets bold, doing a bad on-air impersonation of the soldier that cut her off mid-show the week before to warn her against anti-military propaganda. she doesn't care, just keeps being her cheery, snarky, confident self, and though nancy spends every day in the booth with her for the next two weeks just in case more soldiers come by and try something, she can't help but smirk at how fearlessly robin speaks in front of the entire town. it reminds her of that day in pennhurst. it makes nancy miss her dearly when she isn't there, even though her voice is as common in nancy's house these as her parents' and holly's and mike's
the day nancy realizes she loves her, will has the radio on. he's down in the basement, lying on the couch alone, listening, tapping his fingers against his stomach. nancy comes down looking for a spare notebook, and they greet each other quietly and let robin fill the silence between them. but then the next song starts playing and will speaks up.
"she's really cool, isn't she?"
"she is. i don't know what we'd do without her," nancy says immediately, warm and earnest enough that will looks over at her, a little surprised.
it makes her cheeks heat up, and she grabs what she needs and goes back upstairs--to where holly is listening as she draws, and nancy really doesn't want to not listen, so she sits in the living room too, and she imagines robin next to her, talking and talking and smiling at her through every word. robin running around the station looking for a specific record or some binder full of yellowed instructions or the playlist she'd scribbled up in the middle of the night and lost somewhere in the mess that is the booth. robin spinning around in her chair, flashing instructions at steve, flipping records, winking at nancy when she catches her staring, all without missing a beat as she introduces the next track.
she drives to the station and picks robin up that night, telling steve she's stealing her and he can just go home. robin snorts and waves goodbye to him without hesitation, and all nancy can think about is how she wants to kiss her before the night is over
and she does. it takes a while to get her through the chaos of the wheelers and the byers, of holly running up to her and will waving from across the room, but now they're alone, lying on the bed, the door locked, one of robin's mixtapes--something she made months ago, just for nancy, giving it to her with a look that nancy wouldn't stop thinking about for weeks--playing low on the stereo
nancy kisses her, and holds her, and falls asleep in her arms
steve picks up robin early the next day so they can get to the station and prep for the morning commute. but holly turns the radio on as everyone sits down for breakfast, just in time to hear robin introducing nancy's favorite song
