who the hell is robin? pt. 2
Steve’s beaten body aches, Robin’s metal fist delivering punch after punch.
Steve takes every single one of them. His eye swells and he can taste the blood.
Robin pauses. Bloodied metal arm suspended mid-air, still forming a fist. Her jaw clenching and unclenching. Fighting against something. Something flashes in her eyes. Steve knows she won’t kill him. It’s the same thing he saw on her face when he saw her in the street in front of Melvald’s. Recognition. There are tears in her eyes. She drops her fist lamely at her sides, and Steve’s eyes are nearly swollen shut. “It’s okay, Rob,” he chokes out. “It’s okay.”
He pushes himself up. Bullet wound and gritted teeth and broken robs. He wheezes out a breath. Then another. And another. His body burns, begging him to stay down.
But he can’t. He can’t lose her again.
So he pushes and fights and pushes and fights until–
“Robin!” he shouts, voice wet with emotion (and from the blood draining down his throat.)
She stops. She does not move another muscle, but she stopped. That’s enough for Steve. He stands there, waiting. Nancy’s voice crackles through the comms, “Steve, you need a doctor. She’s too dangerous. Stand. Down.”
Robin hears the voice too, but she says nothing. Her eyes burn with tears and her memories begin flooding back one by one by one.
Scoops. The Russians. Dustin. Erica. Tammy Thompson. Being separated. Mrs. Clicks class. The annoying upper class-men with the stupid hair and oh–!
Steve stands there. She can hear him wheezing. I did that, she thinks, oh god.
“Steve?” she says again, her voice cracking, breaking in two. “Oh god, oh god, oh god Steve,” the tears flow freely down her face now, but she must not stop. He will die if she doesn’t keep going. She cannot lose him again.
The damned metal appendage, much as she loathes it, is incredibly powerful. Enough to hoist him up long enough and drag him as far as she can. She grabs his comms device. “This is Robin, I–”
The same voice from earlier cuts through, “Robin?!?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She sniffs, wiping the snot off her nose, “yeah, it’s me. I’m gonna do what i can, but call an ambulance, now.”
She can’t remember the feminine voice, but she thinks she knows it. Or at least, she did, at one point. It feels familiar.
She rips the god awful leash they kept on her off, tearing the black leathery fabric to shreds, using her knife to slice it into pieces of terrible makeshift gauze. The tears blur her vision, but she can’t let that stop her. Steve coughs.
“Rob…” he breathes, ragged. Robin stops, the tears still streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Rob,” he coughs. He grabs the metal hand, not the fleshy one. The metal one. Gives it a squeeze.
Steve’s eyes roll back into his head.
“Steve?!?” she shouts, shaking him lightly, “Steve?!? You–you can’t leave me again!”
When Nancy and the paramedics arrive, they find Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley passed out side by side, his wounds haphazardly taken care of by her. While her wounds fester and bleed out. Nancy notices, Robin put him first.