#stobin drabble

Robin couldn’t stop pacing. Her face hurt; she knew after all this, if they survived, she’d need to see a dentist. She wondered what she’d tell them. Why her jaw hurt. Why she couldn’t stop clenching. Why her lip was picked raw. She wondered if she’d even be able to pay for it. If they could fix her loosening back tooth for free with whatever government hush money they got this time. Whatever, she thought. They had bigger fish to fry.

The radio station was cold as she paced, sunlight streaming in the window and dappling the dust settled on the counter where she and Steve often ate their lunch. Steve.

What was taking him so long to get here? She knew he and the others had been picked up from the Upside Down and were on their way but Jesus Christ, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. She imagined that even if he was okay that he’d be tired. She was tired too.

Robin stopped pacing, if only to give the squeaky floor a rest. She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants, went to wash them in the bathroom. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror. She’d stayed behind to “spruce the place up” for the landing party but she was beginning to regret it. The suspense was killing her.

They’d all taken too many hits these last few days. There had been too many close calls. Vickie was in on it, finally…which Robin didn’t know how to feel about. She’d sent Vickie back to work and to watch out for the Wheelers. Maybe that was a mistake too. She felt like these days she was making more mistakes than ever.

The ripped Velvet Underground poster she had to keep taping to the wall outside the Squawk bathroom slinked down the wall again when she opened the door. With a huff, she bent down to fetch it. She wanted to Run Run Run too. Run somewhere far away.

Crouching down was when she heard it - the tell-tale sound of the van pulling up the drive. The beat-up thing always sounded rusty and she knew it was packed with her friends and she could feel her heart speed up. By the time the tires were parked in the gravel she was outside. He’d better be there.

And…there he was. Steve waved at her, wiggling his fingers, a small smile on his face - which had noticeably more dirt and blood on it than before - after he helped Max out of the van. Thank god.

When Max was with Lucas, Steve side-stepped the others to make his way to her, and - was she crying? Oh, Robin was crying. Oh.

“Nice shiner,” Steve put one hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb across her collarbone, and put his other hand to her cheek. It stung under the salt of her tears.

“Could say the same thing to you, Dingus” Robin hiccuped, then pursed her lips together to stop from crying harder. Before she knew it, she was being hugged, being held, Steve rocking her back and forth. Harrington lives another day, she thought. Thank god.

“Come on, let’s go inside. Meeting place, yeah?” Steve said. He motioned something to Jonathan before he grabbed her by the hand to rush inside for privacy. His hand was huge and callused and as cold as ice, flecked with weird white specks. He limped as they walked to the kitchen.

Since they’d taken over the station, they’d decided to call the old pantry their “meeting place.” It’s where they kept Murray’s snack deliveries but also where they had their heart to hearts, a common occurrence since the lockdown. It’s where Steve had shared his first concerns about Dustin, where Robin had admitted she was scared to take Vickie out on a date. Where the two of them had plotted Erica’s lockdown birthday party, where Steve had cried to her when he learned his parents weren’t coming back to Hawkins from Ohio. Where the two of them went now, blocking the door behind them. They slid to the floor in unison.

“I know it’s rude to just jump right in but I was particularly worried this time…so if you don’t mind Harrington, what the hell happened to you?” Robin let out a shaky breath. She wiped her eyes.

Steve did too. Then he smiled. “Man, it’s good to hear your voice, Robby.” He closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall. She could see the bruise forming on his chin flicker in the light as he winced. “Um, let’s see…well, I think…I think Dustin and I are finally on the same page. And Wheeler and Byers, they uh…” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “They almost didn’t make it.”

“Oh my god. Steve, are you okay?” Robin knocked his knee with hers.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, it could have been a lot worse, right? But…” he rubbed at his eyes again, pausing to clear his throat, “I’m so tired, Rob. And we saw Holly and we couldn’t save her. We failed. Again. And I’m so glad Dustin and I are on the same page but my god can that nerd throw a punch.”

“Wait what!? Dustin did this?” Robin pointed to his chin. She couldn’t believe it.

Steve actually let out a chuckle. He smiled, eyes twinkling. “Yeah, he learned from the best. Ha. Kid’s got a mean right hook. He…we’re okay though. Honestly I think we’re better than we’ve been since Eddie…anyway. Yeah it hurts, but I guess…” he trailed off.

“We match” Robin interjected. She didn’t know why she said those words specifically, but they felt right. They did match, in their own way. She took his hand again. They both exhaled.

“Yeah, Robby, I guess we do. And now, I mean I think it’s time for plan B, right?” Steve exhaled again. “And I think, we’re finally all on the same page. Me, and Dustin, but also me and Nancy, and Byers too. I mean, with what almost happened - I think we’re all ready for this” he gestured to the whole pantry “to be over. And it’s nice, you know, to finally feel like we’re a team again. Kinda felt like for a while there we were all just angry at each other.”

“So, so angry. Like, comically angry. Dustin was like a little rattlesnake, all coiled up.” Robin felt so good talking to Steve. Catching up.

“No way you just said that Rob!”

“Um, why?”

“Um, because did you know he put a snake in that dick jock’s locker at school and that’s why he was so beat up and missed the crawl?”

“DUSTIN put a snake in someone’s locker?” Robin couldn’t believe it.

“He finally told me. No way you said that! No way. It’s like you’re psychic!” Steve said it fast, the way he did when he was going to laugh. She felt right on the edge of insanity.

“Dustin Henderson, our friend who can who recite a whole Shakespearean sonnet from memory, put a snake in some dickbag’s locker? I mean, iconic!” Robin started to laugh, really laugh now. “He learned from the best.”

“Ahhhh, yeah, he did” Steve laughed. His eyes were crazy in the slanted light of the pantry. The tiny room smelled like dust and fake cheese and blood and sweat. Musty and dangerous.

“Steve, I’m so glad you made it out okay.” Robin couldn’t hold it in any longer. His pupils were blown and his eyes were puffy, like he had been crying. They were insane together. “I was so worried you weren’t going to make it this time. And I…I almost didn’t make it this time, and I was just so mad that I was maybe never going to see you again, and I can’t…I love you. You’re my best friend and I love you and I want you to know that whatever happens next, Jesus, I want us to get out of here.” She sat up, still holding his hand. She could say a million more things, but Steve cut her off.

“Robin I’m so tired of almost dying. We’re gonna get out of here, I promise. We’re gonna go for one last ride and get out. Okay?” Now he was sitting up, too. “This pain, this fear we feel…it won’t be forever. It won’t be our whole lives.” He ran his hand through his hair, greasy and also speckled in white. She’d bring that up later. Steve was doing his once-a-year hero speech. Just for her. “Believe it or not, even beat up, I think we have a pretty good chance of winning this thing. For real. I think I might have an idea on what to do. Honest to god, Rob. I think I have an idea for how to fix things. And I’m so exited to hear what you did when I was gone, and it’s so good to think that it’s never gonna be this bad again. Okay? Okay? Now let’s get some fresh air before the kids think we’re making out.”

“Ew!” Robin let go of his hand, her jaw aching with the joy of a true smile.

“Just kidding!” He winked. God, she was so happy he was alive to wink at her. “Yeah, I get it. With a capital P. Now come on, let’s go ask Dustin what kind of snake it was.” Steve stood up, dusted off his pants. He helped Robin up with a steady hand.

“You gonna be okay?” Robin asked. She was also asking herself.

Steve looked at her, really looked at her, for a full moment. She always beat him at staring contests but this seemed like a turning point for him. Steve had come back from the Upside Down more confident, it seemed. More self-assured. Like he had an inkling that he was maybe going to live this time. Maybe whatever plan he had would work. For some reason she felt like, in his presence just now, it would.

Watching his eyes scan her as he waited to reply felt like an eternity. Then he smiled again, somehow his bruises framing his face like a blush, and said “yeah. Yeah we’re all gonna be okay.”

She expects a stupid quip from him, something about her slacking off.

Instead, he looks at her with a jock equivalent of sympathy. "Cramps?" he asks and Robin's jaw drops to the floor. "I mean, none of my business, I know, but you look really miserable. Did you take a painkiller?"

Robin just shakes her head, clutching her stomach. "Left mine at home," she mutters. "And I really need to get some...supplies, but I can't even stand up. What a day."

Steve just nods and turns around and Robin thinks he'll leave her alone now, maybe mock her for too much information, but then she sees him through the window - he's temporarily closing the shop.

His majestically hairy head peeks through the window as he asks: "Tampons or pads?"

"...pads?"

Steve nods and disappears from her sight.

Robin is pretty sure she hallucinated the whole thing, but ten minutes later Steve is back, pads, painkillers and a...

"A burrito?" she asks and she has to laugh, she really does, because what the fuck is happening?

Steve just shrugs and grabs a handful of napkins. "No heating pads in a summer shopping mall, so I had to improvise. These things take ages to cool down so if you wrap it, it should stay hot for a while and help."

A few minutes later, Robin is back, having used her "supplies" and Steve urges her to sit down, handing her the carefully wrapped burrito. "I'll cover the counter, but if you need anything, let me know."

Robin wants to tell him many things, such as How did you know all of this?, Weren't you supposed to be an asshole?, How did you come up with the burrito idea? and much, much more. But she's really tired and the painkiller is taking its time, so she settles for the shortest one.

"Thanks, Steve."

And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.

(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)

They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.

They need to stage an intervention.

The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.

The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.

He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.

The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)

He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).

He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.

Soulmate au where romantic, platonic, and familial soulmate bonds exist (except parent-child bonds because being soulmates means sharing emotional burdens, and parents shouldn’t ask that of their children).

Bonds happen when a significant vulnerable moment(s) is shared between the two. Sometimes it’s a mutual confession; sometimes it’s a promise made. Sometimes it’s shared trauma. As long as both parties are vulnerable with one another.

Steve is so sure Robin is his soulmate despite their rocky start. Sharing a space comes naturally, moving fluidly around each other, banter ricocheting between them. At first he thought it would be a romantic soulmate bond until he knew better that one fateful night.

And that same night, Steve and Robin were waiting for their soulmate mark. They went through hell together, thought they were gonna die together.

But their injuries were tended to and they were cleared to go home. The sun broke dawn and their skin remained bare except for their fresh wounds.

It wasn’t until spring when a certain boy catches Steve’s eye that he begins to truly contemplate his sexuality.

Steve comes out to Robin in the Family Video bathroom floor (to honor their tradition, of course). And they both simultaneously took a deep breath as relief settled over them in a way it never had before. Like a final piece slotting into place. Like the first breath taken after holding your breath underwater for as long as you could…

prompt: drunk talk

pairing/character(s): stobin and steddie

-

Robin's abruptly awoken by the sound of her phone going off, and blindly reaches for her bedside table to grab it. As she becomes more aware, she realises it's not her default ringtone, it's Material Girl by Madonna. Which means Steve's calling her at... (she finally looks at her phone) three o'clock in the morning. Well. Facetiming her. But, same thing.

She starts to feel a little worried, and accepts the call. A frown comes to her face when she's greeted with a grainy image of... Steve's ear? Instead of his face. And the distant sound of club music.

"Steve?" She asks slowly, and hears a gasp in response.

"Robbie! Hi!" He practically yells, and she drops her head back onto her pillow. He's just drunk.

"You wanna move your phone so I can see your face, Stevie?" She asks slowly, and then waits a few seconds as Steve clumsily moves the camera away so she can actually see him. He appears to be outside of a club, not in one.

Wait a minute. He said he'd be back from the club by midnight.

"Why aren't you home yet?" She asks when he doesn't say anything to her, just smiles dopily into the camera with the corners of his eyes all crinkled.

"Oh! Oh! That's why I called." He explains, words a little slurred, and moves the phone to show a man stood next to him. Robin raises one eyebrow, immediately suspicious.

"Who's this." She asks, though it comes out more like a statement.

"This is Eddie, Robbie! Isn't he so pretty, look at him." Steve continues, and then promptly shoves the phone into Eddie's face to give Robin a view of absolutely nothing. She briefly sees very bewildered eyes.

"This is Robbie?" An equally drunk sounding voice asks in excitement, and suddenly the phone has been moved again and she sees a man with smudged eyeliner and dark wavy hair all in his face.

"You been talking me up, Stevie?"

"Yeah! I love Robin. She's awesome- You're awesome, Robbie." Steve giggles, and the phone's back in his hands now.

Robin sighs again, her eyes starting to feel the strain of abruptly waking up in the middle of her sleep.

"Why did you call me?" She prompts.

"Oh! I'm going to Eddie's place tonight." Steve answers, and then giggles, glances toward Eddie, and brings the phone right up to his lips to whisper (very loudly) into it, "I'm gonna let him fuck me."

Robin snorts at that, and shakes her head as she hears hushed yelling from Eddie.

"Right. You have fun with that. I'm gonna go back to sleep though, okay?"

"Okay. Love you Robbie."

He's terrified. He already feels isolated, singled out in their small group, and of course he's concerned about not being able to respond, to live his life as he knew it, but what eventually breaks him is the smallest thing, the most insignificant, mundane thing.

He and Robin are sorting books in the Family Video and they have this unspoken ritual - whenever there is a theme song in the movie they're watching, Robin will hum it for the rest of the day, with exaggerated movements, directing the orchestra and everything. And Steve watches her one day and realizes - he will lose this. He will never hear Robin's voice again, her slightly husky and over the top renditions of whatever unlucky movie happens to play. He can't help it, his breathing becomes heavy and shaky and before he knows it, Robin is embracing him and he's trying to explain how scared he is, how he feels like his life is basically over, how he'll miss her silliness and they won't be able to talk on the phone when she leaves for college, he can't ever hear her hum anymore...

After an emotional evening and a pizza night with their favorite sitcom - with subtitles! - on, they go to work again, but Robin excuses herself for a bit, runs into the nearby store. When she comes back, she has a large sketchbook in her hand and a black marker. She starts scribbling along to the very faded melody that Steve is registering from the TV and when she hands her final work to him, he laughs and maybe cries a little. Maybe more than little.

What Robin drew for him looks like a mountain range. She created an axis for time and an axis for the "MUSICAL DRRRRAMA", indicating how intense the music is in each moment. And all of the intensity is annotated, not a single soud described, but rather how Steve and Robin still see their world, in all its silliness. "This part is mega sharp, reminds me of wanting to stab Tommy Hagan with a knitting needle", it says next to one peak. "Remember that really soggy and stale cookie we ate at your place because we were hungry? That's what it feels like" and "it's sooooo looooong and boooooring it's like Mrs. Click's class" and "the violin here is crispy. SPICY. Like the Chinese food we had last Thursday, it kind of never wants to stop burning".

It's then that Steve knows that he will be okay. There won't be phone calls, but there will be letters, so many letters with silly descriptions and drawings, nagging to practice his ASL and visits to check if he really did his homework. Robin will be better than him at it, of course she will, but even when they'll both be able to sign fluently, she will still hand him a new melody scribble now and then.