Kas! Nancy for the soul.
The only person Nancy consistently seems to recognize is Robin. Sure, she hesitates briefly when Steve walks into her dim little prison, head tilting like a confused puppy, before she starts snarling and screeching, straining at the double sets of handcuffs keeping her pinned down. Anyone who isn’t Steve can barely set foot in the doorway before Nancy loses her shit, screaming like she’s being tortured, yanking the handcuffs so hard black blood seeps up and pools on her palms, slamming her head into the wall when she can’t escape. The first time she’d reacted to Mike like that the kid had almost passed out in shock. Steve gets it. It’s jarring. It makes him feel sick. He hates that they have to try and tranquilize her from afar to treat the injuries she’s giving herself in her need to escape and rip them all to pieces. But Robin. Nancy is nearly Nancy when Robin approaches her. Her eyes soften. She doesn’t snarl or bare her fangs. She looks almost curious, not “I want to eat you” curious like she is whenever anyone else comes to see her. She doesn’t rattle the handcuffs or slam her head into the wall in fury or screech until her throat is raw. She just sits, and cocks her head, and stares with those empty, pupil-less red eyes. “Hi, Nancy,” Robin says in a trembling voice. She doesn’t get close-none of them get close. Nancy makes a little sound and her mouth opens, but she stays still. Robin sits on the floor, on Nancy’s level. Steve tenses where he leans against the wall, out of Nancy's line of sight. Nancy’s head tilts. Her mouth closes, then opens, then- “What the fuck,” Hopper says around a cigarette, “Is Wheeler purring?”
