Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s strange how silence can fill a room, how it can seep into the cracks, colouring in empty air like a child with a Sharpie. Jonathan knew this intimately, from family dinners, his mother and father glaring at each other across the table. As a child, his home was often quiet, and he much preferred it that way - the alternative was loud, and loud was almost always bad.

Sitting in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom, the tension was palpable. Distantly, Jonathan could hear his older brother, Will, playing Dungeons and Dragons with his friends, but somehow, the shouts of joy couldn’t cut through the thick murky energy in the room. Jonathan could understand why. An art kid, a weirdo, a princess and a jock all in one room - God knows they had nothing to say to each other. It was like a bad teen movie. It was only made worse by the fact that he was all too aware that Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler were dating, and clearly had better things to do than sitting in a room with Jonathan and Argyle.

He wished Will had never driven him here, but his mum would never let Will leave him alone for ten hours, and Jon could tell that Will really wanted to play D and D (with Mike) and see his friends (Mike). Jon didn’t like Mike. He was pretty sure Will could do better, but he wasn’t one to judge his brother’s blatantly obvious crushes that he definitely wasn’t supposed to know about. He resorted to attempting to implode Mike with his mind whenever they were in the same room. He was getting closer, he thought.

The first seven or eight hours had been nice. He’d snuck out of the Wheeler’s house early, evading Karen, and had headed to Argyle’s house, who was pretty happy to save him from The Horrors (his brother’s heart eyes). They’d headed to the park, and gotten involved in some strange conversation about zombies and bathrooms, for some reason. They’d then headed back to Argyle’s house for pizza, and Jon was pretty sure Argyle had gotten a hold of his brother’s weed whilst they were there, which in retrospect was very unhelpful. Accompanied by Argyle, he’d headed back to the Wheeler’s house to check if Will was finished (he was not), where he’d been captured and subjected to ten minutes of “Jonathan! Aren’t you getting tall! Are you here for Will? And is that Argyle? You should tell your mother to get you a haircut! How has she been? Oh, I must be boring you. I’ll call Nancy, you can go and talk to her and her friend.”

And that was how he’d ended up in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom surrounded by too many pastels and next to a best friend who was way too high to be here. How wonderful.

A knock on the door had him scrambling to his feet. A face poked in, framed by one of Joyce’s famous bowl cuts. Here was Will, his savoir!

“Ready to go?” Will asked, and Jon nodded. He gave Nancy and Steve a far too awkward smile on his way out before legging it down the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him. Argyle pottered along behind him, Will bringing up the rear.

When they reached the gravel outside, Will pulled out his keys, fitting them into the lock and pulling the door open. Jon was about to clamber in when he heard noise behind him. He turned and heaved a sigh. Mike Wheeler stood on the doorstep of his house, offering his brother a smile.

“Hey, Will,” he said softly. Will gave a smile, filling his entire face. “Hey, Mike.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to stay over?” Mike asked, almost shyly, which made Jonathan want to roll his eyes. “Just us two?”

Oh, dear god. They were going to do the sex. Except, actually, maybe not, because Jon was pretty sure Mike was stupid.

Will seemed to glow, his eyes brightening, and Jon had to admit, it was nice to see his brother happy. “I’d love to,” he said, but then faltered as he glanced back at Jon. “Wait, actually, I have to take my brother home. Sorry, Mike.”

Mike looked like a kicked puppy, which Jon enjoyed, but so did Will, which Jon did not enjoy. Internally sighing, he closed the car door and raised his voice over the noise of the immense romantic tension between them. “I’ll walk,” he volunteered. “It’s not too far, and it’s not quite dark yet.”

Will looked worried. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said.

Jon shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll have Argyle.”

“Hell yeah,” Argyle said, clearly not quite listening.

Will did not look comforted. “I…” he said, before glancing at Mike. Apparently the sight was enough to convince him, because he nodded. “Call me when you get home,” he said. Jon promised he would

And so Jon set off into the darkening streets of Hawkins accompanied by his best friend, and - although he’d forgotten about it until now - his camera, hung around his neck.

It was a pleasant evening for it - the warmth of the day still lingered in the air, and there was a breeze brushing the branches of the trees that framed the road. Jonathan said goodbye to Argyle, as he turned down the side street that led to his house, and continued up the street. Gradually, night set in, bringing with it shadows that resembled monsters and a chill in the air that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. He placed a hand on his neck, feeling the goosebumps there, and attempted to shake off the phantom feeling that he was being watched.

Suddenly, he heard an ominous crack behind him, and he spun around, nerves on end. Sillouetted in the street, with the light from the streetlamps framing it, was a figure. However, the longer Jon stared at it, the more he noticed tiny details - the arms were too long, fingers too spindly, bones too jutting. There was something not quite human about it, something dark, something evil. Every instinct in Jonathan’s body was telling him to run, and so he did.

He didn’t quite remember what happened next. Time seemed to stretch and change around him, memories in snapshots. He remembered lifting his camera, pointing it at the monster blindly, and clicking the button. He remembered running into his house, slamming the door, trying to control the frantic beat of his heart, too loud in his ears. He remembered picking up the phone, attempting to call somebody, anybody, to no avail.

He remembered dashing into the shed, grabbing the gun, a remnant of his father, and pointing it shakily at the beast. He noted the blinding flash of the lightbulb, unnaturally bright. And from then, nothing.

Chapter Text

Nancy Wheeler knew exactly who she was, and exactly what she wanted, and she was proud of that. Some would call her pushy, but she preferred motivated. Nancy Wheeler was intelligent. Nancy Wheeler was calm in a crisis. Nancy Wheeler was the kind of girl that other mothers would point at and go, “Look at her! Why can’t you be more like her?”

She had a plan. Go to high school, graduate with top grades, go to a good college, intern for a somewhat reputable newspaper, and someday, become a top investigative journalist. There was only one thing standing in her way. Nancy Wheeler was a girl. And unfortunately, in 1983, girls like Nancy weren’t taken seriously. She’d always be ignored, relegated to making coffees and staring over the shoulders of men who’d worked half as hard as she had.

So she had a plan. She’d find a story, something mindblowing, something that would make her stand out from the crowd. She’d prove that actually, thirteen year old girls can be useful, after all. Unfortunately, the sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana, wasn’t helpful in that aspect.

She’d arrived in school, on the 15th May, musing her options. So far, she’d found the three biggest mysteries in Hawkins - who’d stolen Mr Jones’ left glove, who’d graffitied Ms Mayfield’s trailer, and who’d destroyed Ms Henderson’s garden gnome. All mind - numbingly boring.

Nancy was cut out of her spiel of thoughts by her boyfriend’s arrival at her locker, slinging an arm round her shoulders while she placed books in the metal box. Steve smiled at her, kissing her on the cheek, and Nancy resisted the urge to scrub at the spot with her hand.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hey,” Steve replied. “Want me to walk you to your first class?”

“Sure,” she said, ignoring the half dozen jealous stares boring their way into the back of her head. “I need to give something to Jonathan, though, before class. He left his jacket at my house last night.”

Steve looked disgruntled. “Why are you bothering with him?” he complained. “Come hang out with me, Tommy and Carol. He’s weird.”

Nancy considered it for a moment before relenting. She could give it to him in English. She let herself be pulled along by Steve in the direction of the field outside.

Steve Harrington had very nice hair, lots of money, and played sports, which meant that every girl under the age of fifteen in Hawkins wanted to be with him. Nancy wasn’t entirely sure why he’d chosen her, but she liked dating him well enough - it gave her a certain amount of respect, which she enjoyed. The only downside was that he seemed to like kissing her rather a lot, while Nancy just found it a little wet. She was sure it would get better with time - after all, what fourteen - year - old boy could kiss well?

However, Steve also came with his friends, Tommy and Carol, who were loud, rude, and what her mother would call, “Not nice sorts.” They behaved older than their age - and Nancy was pretty sure they smoked, which she thought was a little disgusting. Nancy didn’t have many close friends at school, not since her and Jonathan had grown apart when she was eight, and not since Barb moved away when Nancy was twelve, so she did welcome the security that it gave her of not having to find somewhere random to sit at lunch, even if Tommy and Carol’s company was less than pleasant.

Nancy exited the main building of the school, hand clasped in Steve’s, and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun.

Something was wrong.

That’s what Nancy had decided, when she walked into her geography class, glancing at the empty seat that was supposed to hold Jonathan Byers. She knew Jon had walked home alone the night before, and honestly, it would be the prime location for a kidnapping. Deserted street at night? He was practically asking to be murdered. However, as a journalist, she knew she had to be sure, before announcing a teenage boy as missing. So, during lunch, she evaded Steve, and made the couple - minute - long trek to the high school to talk to Will Byers. (She did consider if she was being a little dramatic, and decided that she wasn't, and continued with her day.)

Will was her favourite out of Mike’s friend group. He was always nice to her, and he seemed to make Mike more tolerable when he was around. Next on her list was Max, then Lucas and El, then Dustin, then Mike in dead last. Her older brother was the definition of irritating - where Nancy was calm, controlled and mature, Mike was hotheaded and irritable. Nancy was pretty sure she acted more like his older sister than the middle child.

She entered the high school with her head held high, and despite the fact she was five feet tall, nobody seemed to question her presence there. She quickly came to the conclusion that the high school was much bigger than the middle school, and although she was 90% sure she could do anything she set her mind to, she could admit that navigating the school was proving to be a challenge. So when she spotted El in what looked to be the music corridor, she admitted defeat and went to ask for directions.

“Hello,” Nancy said, clearing her throat. El spun around, brow furrowed.

“Nancy?” she said, confused. “What are you doing here? Are you looking for Mike?”

She shook her head. “Could you show me where Will is?” she asked, trying to sound like a proper reporter. El looked confused, but she shrugged.

“Okay, then. He’s in the art room. I’ll take you there.”

El led Nancy through a maze of corridors, crossing an outside pavilion, before reaching a small wooden building with floor-to-ceiling windows. El pushed open the doors, and directed Nancy over to a station in the corner, where a boy with brown hair was quietly painting. Next to him, seated at a table, was Mike, which almost made Nancy roll her eyes, because of course Mike spent every second of every day with Will.

“Nancy?” Mike said, frowning. “How did you get here?”

Nancy actually rolled her eyes this time. “I walked,” she said. Then, she turned to Will. “Hello,” she said. “Have you seen Jonathan?”

Will looked up from his painting. “No,” he said. “I stayed at yours last night. My mum said she thought he stayed at Argyle’s. Is he not in school?”

Nancy felt nervous, suddenly. “No,” she said. “But Argyle is.”

Will, worried expression evident on his face, glanced at Mike. “He probably skipped. To take photos. He does that sometimes. Did you need him for something?”

Will’s comforting words couldn’t quell the slight sense of unease she felt at the news, and she could tell Will wasn’t entirely convinced, either. Something was off about this, but Nancy didn’t quite know what.

“Oh, his jacket,” she remembered, pulling it out of her backpack and placing it on the table next to Mike. She turned to leave the art room.

“Go back to school or Mum’ll kill me!” Mike called after her. She didn’t respond, absorbed in the next task at hand. She had to talk to Argyle. And if Argyle hadn’t seen Jon… she feared he might be in real danger.

Finding Argyle was, somehow, harder than finding Will. When Nancy arrived back at the middle school, she checked the canteen, the field, the music block, the art block - even the science labs, although she doubted he’d be there. She eventually located him by accident, walking into the theatre tech room which she’d thought was a closet.

Argyle had been fiddling with the dials, changing the colour of the overhead lamps from red to blue to green. He didn’t see her enter, absorbed in his work, wearing small headphones playing tinny music Nancy didn’t recognise. She walked up to him and tapped him on the back, placing her best “Hi, nice to meet you, tell me everything” smile on her face that got her two extra books out in the library.

He’d spun around and smiled at her. “Scary Wheeler!” he said cheerfully. “What’s up?”

Ignoring the nickname - which, actually, she didn’t mind - Nancy pulled Jonathan’s jacket from her backpack and held it out to Argyle. “Can you give this to Jonathan? He stayed at your house last night, right?”

“You betcha I can, my dude,” Argyle replied, grabbing the jacket and tying the arms into some sort of bow that disappeared into the darkness under the table, “But my guy Jonathan didn’t stay with me last night. He went home.”

Nancy nodded. “Okay, thank you,” she said, backing out of the tiny room, thoughts whirring round her brain. Jonathan hadn’t stayed at Argyle’s the night before? But when she’d spoken to Will, he’d said that Mrs Byers hadn’t seen him - she’d assumed he'd stayed over, too.

This meant that Jonathan Byers hadn’t been seen in - she checked her watch - seventeen hours. And the first forty - eight hours were crucial in a missing person’s case, she knew that. Nancy also knew that when a child went missing, most of the time, they were with a family member or a friend. Jon didn’t have any friends, except Argyle, and Mrs Byers didn’t have many close friends either. Nancy knew from late night conversation at age seven that the only family Jon had was his mother and his brother - and his father, but he didn’t really count. And if Jon was with his father… that was bad.

In the midst of her thoughts, she’d emerged into the courtyard between the science labs. Seeing a payphone on the wall, she considered her options. She could tell a teacher, but what could they do? Jon would probably get in trouble for truancy, and not much else would be done. She could call Mrs Byers, but she was at work, and Nancy didn’t know the number. However, there was one more option, but she wasn’t sure if it was too serious. The thought of Jonathan, alone, scared - or else stuck with his father, or someone worse - powered her through. She knew what she had to do.

Grabbing a coin from her pocket, she dialed the number, and waited, anxiety stirring in the pit of her stomach. Putting on her most polite voice, she spoke into the phone.

“Can I talk to Police Chief Jim Hopper, please?”

A woman’s voice on the other end of the line crackled. “He’s very busy. What is this for again?”

“A school project,” Nancy replied, trying her best to sound sweet and innocent. She knew if she told them what she was really calling about, they’d dismiss her as a prank caller, a stupid teenager messing around, and Nancy Wheeler was anything but stupid. The police chief would take her seriously, though - he was dating Jon’s mother, although Nancy was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to know that.“It’s due in a couple period’s time, and I really need his help. I’ll be fast, I promise.”

The woman sighed. “Okay, then,” she said, and Nancy heard a click on the other end. A deep man’s voice boomed into the phone, and Nancy steeled herself. She was a journalist. She could do this.

“Hello, I’d like to record a missing person?”

Nancy couldn’t focus.

She sat in biology, fingers tapping out a pattern on the table. Her seat partner had already given her a dirty look, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care, only offering up a small, apologetic smile. She’d told the chief all she knew about Jonathan, about what had happened yesterday, but she wasn’t sure if it’d be enough. If it’d warrant an investigation, or simply a place in the back of a mouldering filing cupboard.

“Nancy Wheeler?”

Her head shot up. The principal stood in the doorway, an anxious expression on his face. Nancy felt a jolt in her stomach. She knew what this would be about. She gathered up her things and followed the man through the hallways of the school, into his office. Nancy had only ever been there before for awards, for proclamations of excellent behavior or thoughtful essays. She hoped this time that the subject matter would be just as good.

When she arrived, she was directed to a sofa, next to Argyle and Steve. Immediately she abandoned her bag on the floor, and turned to the man opposite her. Police Chief Hopper had a stern, emotionless face that didn’t give anything away.

“Did you find him?" She asked. The police chief shook his head.

“I just need to ask you some questions about yesterday. About Jonathan - when you last saw him, if he mentioned anything to you.”

It was Steve who spoke first. “I saw him at Nancy’s house,” he said. He glanced at the door. “I didn’t really know him. Can I go?”

“No.” The chief turned to Argyle. “What about you?”

He frowned. “I don’t know, man. I saw him when I turned off this road, ‘bout sunset.”

“Which road?”

“It doesn’t have a name - sorta long, with lots of trees along the sides? In the woods.”

The chief nodded. “I know what you mean.” He glanced at another officer, standing in the corner. “That’ll be all. You kids can go.”

Argyle and Steve nodded, walking out the room, Steve muttering something about meeting her outside. Only Nancy hesitated, questions whirring round her mind. Chief Hopper gestured for her to leave with the others, cutting her off when she opened her mouth to speak.

“Don’t get involved, kid. We’ll find him.”

Chapter Text

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

The soft pads of Nancy’s socked feet hit the floor with every step she took. She paced up and down, floorboards creaking beneath her, as she mused. We’ll find him. What bullshit. There was a person in danger here - and they were telling her to not get involved? 

Well, Nancy wasn’t going to take that. This was her opportunity to show everyone that she was capable, that she had potential, that she was a valuable asset. If she played her cards right, she could use this to kickstart her career, to ensure that nobody treated her like she was just a stupid girl. Yes, she was going to find Jonathan. 

She stopped in her tracks, wincing. It was all too easy to forget that this was Jon who was in danger. Jon, who’d been there practically her entire life. 

She’d first met Jon when she was two, though she didn’t remember it. Mike and Will had become friends at five, so of course when Karen had heard that Will’s mum had a son of a similar age to Nancy, she’d organised a meetup between the families. According to her mum, Nancy had been set down in the house, and had immediately began toddling around on short, stubby legs. Ever curious, she’d attempted to explore the new surroundings, but had walked into a table and had toppled over, beginning to cry. Jon had wandered over, and taken her hand, tugging her up again. He had led Nancy around the house, pointing at everything he saw and confidently declaring “Owag.” at every piece of furniture. Karen liked to recount about how after one such incident, Nancy had frowned, and confidently declared, “No. Boo.” Apparently she was right; and the item in question had been blue, which gave Nancy an odd feeling of satisfaction. 

When they were five, they’d started kindergarten together. There was a drawing in her room made that year, of a crudely drawn girl in a rather triangular skirt, holding hands with a stick figure with brown scribbles for hair. In large, childish letters inscribed at the top of the page were the names “Nancy and Jon.” 

When they were seven, Nancy had her first project. She was to research something in nature, write it’s name and a couple of facts from their simple second grade textbooks. Nancy, enamoured by the small bugs, had chosen ladybirds. For hours she’d toiled away on drawing the perfect ladybirds for her project. Jon had chosen birds, but even with his brother’s help, he couldn’t quite capture the look of the bird in flight. And even after the project was over, Jon still spent his time trying to draw the birds in their full, majestic glory. So, with some help from her mum, Nancy had bought him a cheap camera, to capture his birds. Jon’s smile when the first photo was developed was unmatched. Nancy had heard that he often spent his time in the photography rooms in middle school; the passion had clearly continued. 

And then, when they were eight, a new girl moved to Hawkins. Her name was Barb, and she had ginger hair, glasses, and a big smile, liked reading and dresses and unicorns, and Nancy loved her. They’d become fast friends, spending every day together, and without noticing it, Jon had faded into the background. It wasn’t until a couple years later that Nancy turned around and realised that somewhere along the way, she’d lost Jon’s friendship. 

This missing person was more than just an opportunity for brownie points, it was a way to help Jon, the boy with the birds, the boy who’d helped her countless times over the years. Although Nancy and Jon weren’t friends anymore, not really, she couldn’t quite imagine her life without Jonathan in it. 

A rush of determination ran through her. She was going to help him. She picked up the phone, and dialled a number. 

The leaves crunched beneath Nancy's feet as she narrowed her eyes in the gloom of the night, moonlight illuminating the twigs and green leaves of the spring trees. Behind her, Argyle and Steve, equipped with torches, follow her through the darkness. 

"Why do I have to be here?" Steve grumbled. "I didn't even know Jonathan." 

"Because." Nancy said, irritated. "He's missing and could be in danger." 

Steve rolled his eyes. "I just don't know what that has to do with me.  

"Dude, you gotta be more respectful." Argyle said. "You may not be best bros but helping a bro in trouble is common decency." 

Nancy was attempting to block out Steve shooting back a retort, when she heard a rustle in the undergrowth. Putting out a hand to stop Argyle and Steve, she paused in her tracks, listening. She grabbed Steve's torch , and swung it around, shining it at a dark patch where a bush met a tree, and sillouetted in the light of the torch was - 

A girl? 

She had shoulder length hair somewhere between blonde and brown, and a smattering of freckles like constellations. Her eyes were framed in thick lashes, but it was too dark to make out the colour of them. She wore a denim jacket, clearly made for a man, and although she was reasonably tall, the sleeves still enveloped her hands , ending somewhere just beyond her fingertips. She wore trousers of some dark colour, rolled at the ankles, and stained with something like - blood? 

“You’re not Jonathan,” said Argyle 

Steve looked confused. “I don’t know you. Who are you?” 

"Hello," the girl said with a grin. "I'm Robin." 

Five minutes later, and Nancy has learnt three things about Robin. 

1. She’s about fourteen years old, a similar age to Nancy. This, Robin didn’t actually tell them, but when asked her age she replied with “Fourteen, probably” which wasn’t good enough for Nancy, but would have to do. 
2. She was effectively homeless. Nancy definitely knew this one, because she’d asked where her parents were, and Robin had very much replied to this one - with a monologue about how she had “had a papa, kinda, but honestly not really, so I ran away and then I had a new papa except he wasn’t real either he just kinda left me in his shed and gave me food which I guess was kinda nice of him but also a little weird because who leaves a girl in a shed? And then he got shot by the bad guys which was a little sad but i kinda just had to run away because you know they were coming for me which, was just a blast, actually, and so i ended up here, except I don’t really know where here is, so maybe you could direct me away from Hawkins Lab?” 
3. She knew something about Jonathan Byers. She hadn’t said anything about this one, but when she’d been shown a picture of him, there was… something, in her eyes. Something that told Nancy that Robin was hiding something, and that something was something Nancy needed to know. 

So Nancy knew three things about Robin, which felt like nothing at all, but it was enough to know that Robin would be useful in the investigation for Jonathan. And that was enough for Nancy to know she needed to keep her around. 

“Okay, you’re coming back to my house,” Nancy decided, without fully thinking. There was a part of her brain that hadn’t quite thought that through, that went “Wait, what?” It was unlike Nancy to make a decision that fast, but she needed this, and something buried deep in her mind told her, for some reason, she could trust Robin. And it was a good idea. This way, Robin could help them, and Nancy could get to know her better. All her life, Nancy had strived to understand, to learn, to uncover the mysteries that lay underneath everyday life and make a difference with them. And Robin was full of mysteries - it positively spilled out of her, in the gleam and shift of her eyes, in the fingers that never quite stopped moving, in the words that spilled from her, saying so much and yet nothing at all. 

Nancy expected Robin to frown, to look confused, to question her. Robin did none of those things, only catching her eyes and grinning. 

“Cool!” she’d said. “I’ve never had a sleepover before. And, like, I have nowhere else to go. I hope you’re not a murderer.” 

When they arrived back at the Wheeler house - a staunchly middle class building with an exceptionally tidy interior due to Karen’s cleaning-based breakdowns - Nancy led Robin through the corridors and up the stairs as quietly as she could. 

Well. Nancy was quiet. Robin was a menace, sending objects clattering to the ground left and right. Nancy had only just caught a glass that she’d elbowed off the kitchen surface, and Robin had sent her a sheepish smile as a result. They’d just reached the hallway outside the bathroom when Nancy heard movement. Quickly, she shoved Robin into the bathroom. Robin had tumbled into the bathtub as closed the shower curtains just as Karen stepped out into the hallway, rubbing her eyes. 

“Nancy, are you okay? Why are you awake?” 

Nancy held up the water-glass, giving her a sweet unassuming smile. “Just getting a glass of water, Mum” she said. 

Karen smiled at her before backing into her room again. “Go to sleep soon, please. You’ve got school tomorrow.” 

Nancy nodded. She waited until she could hear Karen settling back down in bed, before whipping the curtains open. Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, dark eyes blinking at Nancy. She pulled Robin out of the bathtub and continued along the hallway. 

This was the difficult part. Nancy knew Robin would be found if she was in Nancy’s bedroom, but the Wheelers had redone the attic a couple years back, and it had become Nancy’s safe space. While Mike had the basement, Nancy had the attic. Nobody else ever went up there, so she knew Robin would be safe there - but getting the ladder down was difficult, and usually noisy.

When they reached the end of the corridor, Nancy stopped. “This is where you’ll be staying,” she said, glancing at her room. “Stay here. I’ll go get some pillows and a blanket, and then I’ll get the ladder down.” Robin gave a mumble of affirmation, head craned to stare up at the dark attic hatch. 

Nancy pushed the door open to her room, making sure to step lightly and quietly. She gathered up the nearest blanket she saw - pale pink, made of soft material - and a blue throw pillow. She glanced around her room for more objects that Robin would need, grabbing a torch, the nearest book - one about learning languages, with sections on French, Spanish, Italian and English. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her wardrobe. Robin’s clothes had been positively coated in mud. She gathered up a smile pile mainly consisting of jumpers, and some trousers that belonged to Mike that had obviously been sorted into the wrong wardrobe. On a whim, she picked up three of her stuffed animals - a stegosaurus that used to belong to Mike, a duck, and an octopus that Jon had given her when she was about seven. She figured Robin would enjoy the company. 

Armed with her equipment, Nancy stepped back out into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind her. She stopped short, frowning. Robin jumped down from the ladder. 

“I got it down,” she said. 

Nancy was confused. “How did you get it down without making any noise?” Further inspecting Robin’s face, her frown grew. “And what’s that beneath your nose?” 

Robin jumped slightly, and wiped her nose, a shifty look on her face. “You’ve never seen a nosebleed before?” Robin’s eyebrows raised. 

Nancy filed it away for future reference, in her quickly growing mental folder of Weird Things Robin Does. She clambered up the ladder and into the attic. It was a dark and small room, with a beanbag chair in one corner, a desk and a standing whiteboard in the corner. It had a small skylight, and Nancy could just glimpse the moon through it, emitting a soft glow. She placed the stuff in her arms to the side, against the wall, and handed Robin a torch as she poked her head into the room. From what Nancy had seen so far, Robin was decently uncoordinated in the light, and she had no doubt that she’d be worse when she couldn’t see. Nancy closed the hatch behind her. 

Robin switched on the torch, and the room was filled with harsh white light that make Nancy blink. Nevertheless, she surveyed the now - dimly - lit room for a place to put Robin. If a member of her family was to come up to the attic - unlikely, but possible - she wanted there to be no evidence of a girl living there. Nancy had worked hard to gain her family’s trust, to have the freedom she was afforded, and she wasn’t going to let that go. Spying a storage cabinet set into the wall at the side, she strode over to it, flinging open the door. Robin came up behind her, peering into the dark space. It was about a meter tall, and maybe twice that in width, and was deep, stretching back into the darkness.. Nancy gave Robin a once - over. She was tall, yes, but she’d still be able to sit comfortably. 

Nancy grabbed the beanbag, placing it in the storage container so it’d fit snugly. Then she grabbed the blankets and cushions, and placed them on the beanbag. Robin had been quietly watching, but upon seeing what Nancy was doing, she stepped forward. 

“You’re putting me in the cupboard ?” she said. 

Nancy turned to look at her. “Didn’t you live in a shed before?” 

Robin paused for a moment. “Good point,” she said, about to clamber into the small space, Nancy grabbed her arm to stop her, ignoring the strange feeling she got when she touched her. 

“I brought you a change of clothes,” she said, pointing at the pile. Robin nodded, attempting to pull off her T-shirt and jacket at the same time. Nancy clamped her eyes shut. 

“Privacy!” she said. 

She opened her eyes to Robin looking confused, still - thankfully - fully clothed. “What?” she asked. 

Nancy stared at her. “Did the person who took care of you not explain privacy?” 

Robin shrugged. “Well. Papa taught me literally nothing, it was stupid. Like, I could hardly speak when I escaped from -.” she paused, “Anyway. Benny didn’t teach me either, he just left me alone with some old rock tapes and a shit ton of fantasy novels, which were weird , but at least I learnt words. Everything else, I don’t know.” 

Nancy paused. A thousand questions flicked through her mind like scenes in a movie, but it was nearing 2am and she should probably go to bed, so she restrained herself. “Privacy is where you have some things to yourself. This includes your body. So, you don’t change in front of people.” She turned around and closed her eyes. “You can change now.” 

Nancy could hear scuffling coming from behind her - and at one point, a thud and an “ow!” - before Robin spoke again. “I’m done,” she said. Nancy turned around to find Robin nestled in the cupboard. She’d picked up the stuffed toys and aligned them, and beside her sat the torch and the book. Her hand rested on the cupboard door, ready to pull it closed. 

Nancy stepped toward the hatch, and the ladder which was folded up on top of it. “I’ll go now. But I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” 

Just as she was about to step out of the hatch, Robin spoke. “Why did you invite me here, Nancy?” she asked, voice small but steady. 

Nancy paused. Eventually, she decided to tell Robin the truth. “I think you know something about Jon. I don’t know what it is… but it could help us. I think we need you.” 

Another few seconds of silence, and then - “Is Jon your boyfriend?” 

Nancy shook her head, realising too late that Robin couldn’t see her in the darkness. “He’s an old friend. We haven’t been close in years, but… “ her voice trailed off. 

When Robin spoke again, her voice had a hint of melancholy. “It must be nice. To have a friend.” 

Nancy almost laughed. She didn’t really have a friend, either - Steve was the closest she had to that and he was her boyfriend. Argyle was Jon’s friend, and the gap between her and Jon was too big to be classed as friendship, however much she’d like to think that they were still friends. “It must be,” she said, echoing Robin’s words. 

“Maybe.. We could be friends?” Robin asked. The night was quiet. Outside, Nancy could hear the faint croak of crickets, the drone of a car. Inside, however, all Nancy could hear was Robin’s breathing. It was quiet, but the sound filled the room, filling the space with Robin and a feeling that felt a little too close to irrational comfort. 

“Yes,” Nancy said. Something about Robin drew her to her, even though they’d only known each other for a few short hours. Maybe that was why the word ‘friend’ seemed slightly off, like a single wrong note in a beautiful symphony. Nancy knew somehow that she wanted to know Robin better, wanted to solve all her mysteries, wanted to know her like the back of her hand, and that was friendship. So yes, Nancy decided, she wanted to be friends with Robin. 

She didn’t voice any of that. Quietly, she slipped down the ladder, then into bed, then into the soft confines of sleep. 

Chapter Text

Nancy had often heard that decisions made in the middle of the night weren’t always sensible. That in the dark, there was something druglike that caused insane decisions to seem perfectly rational. Nancy had always disputed this - how could a change in light cause a change in morals? And yet, when she woke up with her alarm the next morning, she could see what they were talking about. 

When she stirred, the first thing on her mind was Robin. The second thing was what the fuck was she thinking. She didn’t know Robin. Hell, she didn’t even know if Robin was her real name. She could be a murderer, or a fugitive, or an escaped mental patient. And she was in her house right now, with her three year old sister.

 Nancy flew out of bed, dressing quickly - but quietly, as her family was still asleep - and ascended the ladder to the attic that she’d left open the day before. At the last moment, she grabbed Mike’s old baseball bat, left over from a last-ditch effort by Ted to turn Mike into someone other than a weird nerd, and hoisted it over her shoulder. Robin had seemed nice enough, but that was no guarantee. 

She pulled down the ladder - and if she had to use the step stool to reach the hatch, well, that was nobody’s business but her own - and clambered into the attic. The room was silent, no sign of life visible except for Nancy's distorted reflection in the glass of the skylight. She marched over to the cupboard, pulling open the door with more vigour and speed than was strictly necessary. A body wrapped in a soft pink jumper and too - long trousers tumbled out, ending up on the floor, long limbs spilling out haphazardly. A face with blue eyes still blinking sleep away looked up at Nancy. 

“What the fuck , Nancy Rose Wheeler.” Robin grumbled. Nancy noticed with an unfamiliar jolt that her hair was mussed with sleep, wavy strands sticking up, spilling over one another. It made her look…. Different. Her voice, too, was filled with the rasp of someone who’d just been abruptly woken up - it was slightly satisfying, the way it cut through the syllables of her name - 

“How do you know my full name?” Nancy asked, hefting her bat up on her shoulder. Alarm bells were ringing in her mind, sounding in time with her heartbeat that seemed to be trying to hammer its way out of her chest. This was bad, this was very bad, because how else would Robin know Nancy’s full government name if she was not doing something - at the risk of sounding like Mike - nefarious? She should have known that a random girl in the woods obviously had ulterior motives. 

“It’s in the book,” Robin said, tapping the translation book Nancy had given her. She grabbed the book and held it open for Nancy to look at and, sure enough, in her neat calligraphy from sixth grade, was the name Nancy Rose Wheeler. She’d been gifted the book when she was eleven, she remembered, and in her phase when she wrote her full name on everything. 

So. Maybe Robin wasn’t evil like she thought. But she still had to go. 

“What are you doing here at…” Robin grabbed Nancy’s wrist to check the time on her watch. “... six-twenty-eight in the morning?” 

Nancy ignored the way her wrist prickled when Robin touched it, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got school,” she replied. “And I needed to talk to you about something.” 

Looking at Robin, something within her didn’t want to kick her out. Something drew Nancy to the other girl, something she couldn’t quite name. Still, it was the logical thing to do. And Nancy was logical. But maybe if there was a way she didn’t have to hide Robin from her family, and still be able to see her whenever she liked, tucked up in her attic? 

That was it! She looked into Robin’s expectant eyes. “You can’t stay here without my family’s knowledge. But if you went around the house, out the back door and round to the front door, my mum would answer the door, and you could ask her to stay? Say you’re a friend of mine?” 

Robin blinked at Nancy, and let out a breath. Somewhere along the way, they’d stepped close together, and Nancy could feel her warm breath on the tip of her nose.

“That… won’t exactly work,” Robin said, shifting her feet on the wooden floor. Nancy raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and Robin swallowed. “There’s something I haven’t told you.” 

“I escaped from… a lab. They’d been raising me and fifteen other children for years, conducting…. Experiments. Then, something happened to the other children - I don’t remember what, only that suddenly, I was the only one left. I became a precious asset. They guarded me every second of every day, but one day… there was an, uh, accident. I was able to escape, but the people at the lab didn’t want to let me go. They chased me, they attacked everyone who ever thought to help me. Those two years with Benny were the longest I’ve been safe for, but eventually, they got him too. Shot him, through the head. I’m pretty safe here - they won’t be able to find me, and they won’t suspect me of hiding in a typical suburban home - but if your mum was to meet me and call the authorities…” Robin shuddered. She made a hand into the shape of a gun, and Nancy’s heart climbed her throat as she pointed the gun at her own head, then Nancy’s. 

Nancy was full of questions, but seeing how shaken Robin looked, she put them aside. She didn’t know what this meant, or how any of this connected to Jonathan, but she knew for certain that Robin needed a friend. And Nancy didn’t really know how to be a good friend, but she was going to try her best. 

Nancy sat in the entryway of her home, chewing on the end of her pen. She had a notepad out in front of her, with a bird drawn in the centre - albeit, badly. Around it in neat handwriting was everything she knew about Robin - her origins, her personality, her situation. It was looking disappointingly blank. Despairingly, she flipped over to the next page - also pretty much entirely blank. Nancy was beginning to feel out of her depth. She wanted to help Jonathan, and she wanted to write a killer article and get it published, and she wanted to know - no, to help - actually, she wasn’t sure what she wanted with Robin. Unfortunately, she was getting nowhere with any of those goals. 

“Nancy!” Mike called up the stairs, frustration evident in his tone. She placed the notebook carefully in her backpack, and headed down to where Mike stood, an irritated look in his eyes. She walked past him and out the door, ready to be driven to school. 

Their drive began as it always did; with silence. Nancy wasn’t sure if her and Mike were too different, or too similar, or something in between, only that their relationship was ragged, frayed at the edges. Her family were never great at deep emotional connections - family dinner was silent beyond trivial conversations made by their mother. How is school? How are your grades? How are your friends? Those three questions made their rounds every night, circling round. Nancy knew that her dad didn’t care, her sister was too young to understand, and her mother was happy as long as Nancy could deliver her answers with a smile. She wasn’t sure how Mike felt about it; she wasn’t sure how Mike felt about anything.

Mike cleared his throat, ejecting Nancy from her thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” he asked stiffly, eyes on the road. 

Nancy frowned. “What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Fine, thanks.” she said woodenly. 

Mike closed his eyes and sighed, then abruptly veered to the side, down a side street, before pulling the car to an abrupt halt. He turned to her, silent for a second before speaking again. 

“Are you okay, Nancy. A boy has gone missing - your childhood best friend, to be exact. And don’t give me that bullshit about you not really being friends with him anymore - when you’re raised with someone, they leave an imprint on you. I know I’ve been a pretty shitty brother, but god knows nobody else in this family is going to ask you this, so; are you okay?” 

Nancy stared at him, eyes wide, stomach plummeting. “No,” she said finally, realising as she said it that it was true. “No, I’m not okay. I’m - I’m really scared right now. But I’m going to find him. And when that happens, I will be.” 

Mike watched her for a couple moments, eyes scanning her face, and she thought he could see right through her into the depths of her soul. “Good,” he said, before reversing the car out of the side street and down the road, back in the direction they came from. Nancy frowned at him. 

“You’re not going to school today,” he said. “I’ll call you in sick. Just don’t tell Mum.” 

They pulled up to the Wheeler house, and Nancy slipped out of the car. Before she shut the door, she spun around to look at him. “You’re not.” she said. “Always a shitty brother. You’re not right now.” 

Mike smiled at her, fleeting, but there, before pulling out of the driveway. 

When Nancy pulled herself up, through the hatch of the attic, Robin was reading. 

She mouthed the words as she read them, Spanish and French and Italian, and Nancy hesitated for a second, simply watching her. Her eyes traced the other girl’s face - her brow, furrowed in concentration, her eyes, clear and blue, narrowed - her nose, scrunched up slightly, her lips, pursed. She had a piece of her shoulder length hair in her face, somewhere between brown and blonde, with waves that toed the line between unruly. Nancy felt she knew why Jonathan loved photography so - she wanted to capture it in something tangible, she wanted to remember it in perfect clarity. Her… friend. 

It was at that moment Robin looked back, blinking in surprise to see Nancy there. Her body seemed to flinch at Robin’s eyes on her, nerves fizzling with a quiet sort of suppressed shock, as if they were asking - is this real? Is she looking at us? 

“Nancy?” Robin said, surprise tinging her tone. “Aren’t you meant to be at school?” A sly smile overtook her, as she slammed the book shut and stood to her feet. “Did you skip? Perfect Nancy Wheeler skipped school?” 

Nancy frowned. Something about the other girl’s tone got on her nerves. “I’m not perfect,” she said sharply. “You don’t even really know me. This could be normal.” 

Robin grinned, shaking her head. “I was locked in a shed for two years. The one thing I really learnt was cliches and stereotypes. And you are a walking stereotype. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect grades - probably - perfect face…” She patted Nancy’s cheek before stepping back, seemingly reigning herself in. After a couple moments she continued, cheeks stained a slight red. “Perfect.” 

Nancy felt the imprint of Robin’s palm on her face like a slight sunburn. She shook off the feeling. “Well, I’m about to do something not quite perfect, and not quite sensible. I’m going to show you my house."

“What I don’t get,” said Robin as she half slid, half stepped down the stairs,  “Is why you’re doing this. I mean, surely it’s safer and easier to just stick me up there? Not that I’m complaining, that is - I’d much rather be down here.” She reached the bottom of the stairs and headed over to the wall of family photographs. 

Nancy paused. “We’re friends. We agreed that yesterday. And as your friend, I want you to be…” she searched for the correct word, “Happy. And I think you’d be happier being able to get out of my attic at least once.” 

Robin turned around, giving Nancy a large, heartfelt grin. “Thank you.” 

Nancy felt unreasonably hot. It probably served her right, wearing a cardigan in May. She shrugged it off, placing it carefully on the armchair next to her. Robin had turned around again and had continued examining the family photographs. 

“Why is your brother actually hot?” Robin said, back still turned.

Nancy coughed. “That’s disgusting,” she said, wheezing. Something about Robin liking her brother made her deeply uncomfortable. 

“I’m just saying,” she said. “Objectively, he’s attractive. I’m not even -” she stopped abruptly. “Never mind.” She wandered over to the armchair on the corner, and poked it, before glancing up at Nancy. “What is this? This armchair is weird. ”

“It’s a Lazyboy. My dad sits on it for his naps.” Nancy crossed the room to stand by Robin. “Sit on it for a second.” 

Robin slipped into the chair. She settled in, wiggling a couple times. “Oh, this is comfortable,” she said. 

Nancy only felt a tiny bit of guilt as she clicked the button and Robin slid down, almost ending up on the floor in a puddle of long limbs. “What?” she yelped, clutching the sides as if the chair was going to crumble underneath her. Nancy laughed loudly. 

Robin jumped out the chair, giving it a suspicious look as she did so. She refocused her attention on Nancy. “Can I see your room?” she asked. 

The door to Nancy’s bedroom clattered as Robin threw it open. Nancy resisted the urge to check if the wall was dented as Robin swanned in. When she reached the centre of the room, she spun around, taking it all in with wide eyes. 

She headed to the corner of the room first, to Nancy's bedside table. She picked up a pink music box with a tiny ballerina, holding it up to eye level and peering at the features of the figurine. Robin smiled, before placing it back down and moving on to the next object that caught her fascination. And if Nancy straightened the box afterwards, then that was nobody’s business but her own. 

Robin moved on to Nancy’s display of soft toys, leftover from when she was younger. She’d been meaning to throw them away, but some nostalgic feeling had stopped her and she’d procrastinated it. Now, seeing Robin pick them up and place them back down, patting a couple on the head and stroking others, Nancy vaguely registered that the neat organisation had been messed up - some were toppled over, others were in the wrong places - but she was captured by Robin’s face. 

Some strands opf her hair had wandered into her face, embracing Robin’s eyes. They were flyaways - not neat or tidy or perfect. Yet somehow, that added to the impression of Robin that lived in Nancy’s head. Robin wasn’t neat - despite her past, or the little that Nancy knew - she was messy, and full of energy, and intelligent, and incredibly alive, in a way that Nancy almost didn’t understand. And all of that culminated into one, wide word; pretty. To Nancy, Robin was pretty. 

Then, a few things happened in quick succession, too fast for Nancy to dwell on her thoughts: 

First of all, Robin had spotted a picture of Jonathan, taken when he was about six. He was in Nancy’s garden, among the flowers. Nancy stood next to him, smiling widely. Her pink dress was somehow spotless - probably the result of Karen Wheeler. Jonathan looked much more awkward, hair mussed on one side, eyes anxious. He held hands with Nancy. Robin’s face underwent a metamorphosis - from eyes alight with interest to fear, and something else - guilt? She had picked up the photograph and pulled it closer to her, probably intending to see it better. 

Next, a door slammed downstairs, and Mike’s voice drifted up to her, accompanied by another… maybe Will’s? The door slam was loud and violent, like the crack of a whip, hanging in the quiet air of Nancy’s room, causing Nancy to jump back in shock - as did Robin.

Suddenly, Nancy’s door slammed too, out of nowhere, and Nancy’s head whipped around to look at it. It was strange - the door was completely still before, not even drifting. It was probably the wind, except surely she’d have felt it if a strong enough gust of wind to slam the door so dramatically drifted through the room? Besides - glancing back to the window and by extension, Robin - the window wasn’t even open. 

Nancy’s eyes caught on Robin, and she frowned. Robin had stumbled back a couple feet when the door slammed, eyes wide in shock. She held one finger to her nose, attempting to slow a stream of what seemed to be fresh blood. Her other hand was held out in front of her, almost instinctive - in a way that seemed relaxed, natural, like she’d done it before. Nancy followed the lines of Robin’s arm and long, tapered fingertips to the photo of Jonathan which lay on the floor - 

Except no, it didn’t lie on the floor. It hovered a few inches above the carpet, suspended in the air like some sort of puppet. Nancy met Robin’s apprehensive gaze, and was hit by only one question: what was that?

Chapter Text

Around Nancy, the world seemed to freeze. 

It was almost impossible to comprehend what she saw. It was truly in the realm of impossible, the kind of thing that’d happen in a fantasy novel or a young child’s game, because that was what it was; fantasy. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. 

Except. The floating photograph - frame and all - looked real. The look on Robin’s face, shock and guilt and fear - looked real. Which meant that it was true - Robin had made the picture float, and everything that Nancy knew about the world had just collapsed. 

In hindsight, she should have seen … well, not seen it coming, because how could she? She should have seen something coming - Robin was strange and awkward and came from a lab of all places. It wasn’t… unbelievable… that out of every person in Hawkins, the one with strange supernatural powers would be the escaped lab girl. 

What was she thinking about? This was insane. Nancy was rationalising superpowers . Superpowers, for Christ’s sake. She felt simultaneously too young and too old for this. 

A plan. She needed - she needed a plan. She needed to get her head in order, and overall, just to calm down.  What was she supposed to do? 

A cough came from somewhere in front of her as the world blurred back into focus. She needed more information. So she needed to ask Robin things. Were her powers dangerous? How long had she had them for? What did they do? And most importantly, could they help Jonathan? 

Nancy tried to voice this, she really did, but all that came out was, “Wh- what?” For the first time in her thirteen - and - three - quarter years of life, Nancy Wheeler was speechless. 

Robin had sat on the floor at some point in the last minute or so that Nancy had been stuck inside her own head. Her legs were crossed, and her face was turned away from Nancy - who’d made her way onto the floor at some point as well, she realised. After what felt like a century but was probably only a couple seconds, Robin turned around to face Nancy again. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her face was a picture of resignation, like someone who’d seen the future and knew their fate. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I endangered your family, I’m sorry I’m … this. But please, please don’t tell anyone. I’ll leave you alone, you’ll never have to see me again - but I’m begging you, don’t send me back there.” 

Nancy was silent for a couple of seconds, contemplating. Then she spoke again, carefully, measured, calm. 

“How did you get your… powers? And what can you do?” 

Something passed over Robin’s eyes, like a cloud. She began to speak, hesitantly at first, then faster with words tripping over themselves to leave her mouth. “I’ve always had them. I don’t know where they came from - I was at the lab for as long as I could remember. I had a mother - she came looking for me, once - maybe it’s because of her I'm like this, but I’m not sure. I just know they hurt her. They didn’t tell us anything, there. Only how to use our powers, how to become their pet. I don’t even know what I’m capable of - it’s been a while since I've used my abilities, and I was only twelve when I ran - but I can lift things. Crush things, too. I can find things, kind of - people, too. And -” here her voice shifted, became almost strangled. “I can hurt people. Even - even kill them.” 

Nancy paused. “Do you… want to hurt me?” 

Robin’s eyes flashed as she lurched towards Nancy, hands gripping her wrists before flashing away again into her pockets, rethinking her actions. “No,” she said forcefully. “No, I - I would never. I’m not violent. I’m… a person.” 

Another pause. Nancy let her eyes flit over Robin, seeing her in a new light. She’d clearly hurt someone before - that was clear in the desperation edged with guilt that filled her voice. And to have her in the same house as Holly… that scared Nancy more than she’d like to admit. But this was the same girl who’d been examining her trinkets just five minutes earlier with a smile on her face. This was the same girl who’d never had a friend before. And Nancy trusted her gut, and her gut wanted Robin near her. There was something about the girl that pulled Nancy in, helpless - a thousand mysteries hidden behind pretty eyes and a smile. Besides, she was looking for Jonathan. That was who this was all for. And Robin could find people. 

Nancy had made her decision. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone about you,” she said. Robin’s face was overtaken by a grin, and Nancy saw that her eyes had held water. “But,” she amended. “You have to help us find Jonathan. Properly, this time.” 

Robin nodded. “Anything,” 

Argyle and Steve arrived promptly at 4:00. After an internal debate, Nancy had called them. She supposed she’d already involved them at that point, so she may as well go the distance. She could already hear their squabbling before she opened the door - well, Steve’s squabbling. Argyle replied back in his calm, measured tone which only seemed to infuriate Steve more. 

She’d indicated for them to follow her through the house, and she led them through the corridors, up the stairs, and through the hatch to the attic. Nancy gave them both cushions, which they sat on. 

Steve turned to Nancy, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand why I have to be here, ” he said, tone and words eerily similar to the night before. Nancy rolled her eyes, already done with him, and opened her mouth, about to give a snapped reply, but Steve continued on. “I know Jonathan was your friend and stuff, but that was years ago. The police will find him, and even if they don’t, he’s just a guy. I mean, frankly, he’s a freak. Is he really the biggest loss? I’m pretty sure he’s gay anyway so-” 

Steve was cut off from his miserable tangent by a flying book to the face, from the cupboard in the corner. 

“Shut up, Dingus.” said Robin’s voice. 

Nancy almost laughed at the incredulous expression on his face, if it wasn’t for the words he’d said that cut deep. Robin stepped out the cupboard, wearing the same oversized jacket she’d been wearing when they found her in the woods. She settled herself down beside Nancy. 

Argyle frowned. “Yo, that book, like, totally floated, bro. That’s some crazy illusion shit.” 

Robin wiped the blood from beneath her nose, and glanced at Nancy. Her eyes were worried, but determined. She’d agreed to help find Jonathan, and Nancy had the sense that she’d do anything to honour the agreement. 

“Not an illusion,” Robin said, and she began to speak. 

Once she’d explained her powers - and given a fair few examples, because Steve did not believe her - she collapsed down on the floor. “Any questions?” 

Argyle raised a hand. “Is that why you have that funky tattoo?” 

Robin winced, as Nancy frowned. Tattoo? What tattoo? Robin slid back her sleeve to reveal the number 014, etched into her skin in black ink. The numbers were blocky and bold, and clearly permanent. 

“That’s how they kept track of us.” Robin said quietly. “I’m - I was - number fourteen. But when Benny found me, he called me Robin, ‘cause it was around christmastime. And I liked it, so.” 

Almost instinctively, Nancy reached for Robin’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. Her fingers tingled where they touched Robin’s. 

“Nancy.” Steve’s voice was low, and when she looked at him, instead of boredom or frustration in his expression, she saw… fear. She’d never seen Steve scared before. “This is insane. This is crazy. What are you doing, running around with lab rats and weird people and -” he cut himself off. “We need to report her -” he gestured at Robin “ - to the authorities, and get the fuck away from here. I mean, you’re pretty, and sweet, and good, and - and not like them.” 

Nancy blinked at him, then narrowed her eyes. “No,” she said. “I’m helping Jonathan.” Her voice was calm, decisive, but with an edge like a blade. 

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said. “No, you’re not. I mean - Jonathan isn’t important. He’s a freak, he’s nobody. And you - you’re everything. You - we - matter more than Jonathan Byers, of all people. So, we’re going. To the police station, or your parents, or anybody. Now.” 

Nancy paused, and let the words wash over her. All of a sudden, she came to a sharp conclusion. Nancy did not like Steve. She’d never liked Steve. She’d liked the safety of him and his reputation, but that’s not the same. She’d enjoyed his company sometimes, yes, but that was all. And right now, she didn’t even like his company much. 

Steve Harrington was not exactly a good person. Nancy knew this - had known this for a while. She’d watched as he treated people like Jonathan horribly for things that weren’t even his fault. He was rude, and entitled, and he was only nice to her because he liked her. He hadn’t even considered whether she’d liked him back, and neither had she, because he was Steve Harrington. Of course she liked him, everyone did. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” The words formed in Nancy’s throat, and spilled out of her involuntarily, and something inside her felt a sigh of relief. This was better. This was what she needed. 

And Steve? Steve looked confused, and heartbroken, and Nancy felt a little guilty, she did, but she also felt a little satisfied. Steve Harrington wasn’t getting what he wanted - for maybe the first time - and Nancy was the cause. 

“So you can go now. You clearly don’t care about Jonathan, and I - I don’t think I care about you, so. You can leave.” The words felt alien to her, not quite her own, and yet, her heart chimed in time with the syllables. 

All that time, Robin had been silent, but as Nancy glanced over to her, their eyes met, and Robin gave her a tiny smile. And even though logically, she knew it was just a smile - just a small curve of the lips - it seemed to transform Robin’s face into sunlight. Watching her smile, Nancy felt herself shine a little brighter, too. 

When Nancy tore herself away from Robin, Steve was gone. 

Robin had said she could find Jonathan, and Nancy believed her. This was how she did it. 

First of all, she’d said, she needed a radio. Nancy had found one in her brother’s room. She’d taken it from its place on the shelf, and brought it back to the attic. She’d turned it to an empty station, crackling static, like Robin had said. 

They’d used one of Nancy's jumpers as a blindfold. Nancy fastened it around her head. At one point, her fingers had gotten tangled in Robin’s hair, and she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination playing tricks on her, but she felt her heat beat faster. 

Once the jumper was correctly fastened, no light encroaching on the edges, Robin sat cross legged, and the room fell silent. 

Nobody moved. It would have felt like a painting, like they were frozen, if not for the slow droplet of blood that dripped from Robin’s nose. Next to Nancy, Argyle was completely still. She’d never seen him so calm before, like a statue. Jonathan clearly mattered to him, and Nancy thought with a tinge of irony that even though it was her that’d abandoned Jon, he’d still ended up with a friend, and Nancy had ended up alone. 

Well. Not alone. She had a friend. 

Speaking of, Robin pulled off the jumper covering her eyes, breaking the illusion. She breathed hard, eyes wide and confused. 

Nancy leaned forward, urgency invading her tone. “Did you find him?” she asked. 

Robin stared into space, a crease between her brow. “Yes,” she said uncertainly. “I’m pretty sure I found him.” Then she snapped back into attention, eyes meeting Nancy’s. 

“I need a map of Hawkins. 

Hawkins is a beautiful place. Even on paper, its hills and forests and valleys spread out, a myriad of curves and sharp lines that create something charming. The perfect small American town. 

Robin’s pen - a bright, violent, red - traced the lines, carving a bloody path across the map, lacking rhyme or reason. Her fingers were smudged with the colour, and the ink left imprints whenever they brushed the map. Nancy watched as the pen cut through her school, the library, her home - eventually ending up atop a small house, buried in the woods. Nancy knew that house. She’d spent her childhood there. The problem was, that was the only place they knew Jonathan really, really couldn’t be. 

And yet, Robin made a large cross atop the Byers’ house. “There’s Jon,” she said. 

Nancy’s heart jumped into her throat, her mind crossing into darker territory. Will said he hadn’t heard from Jon - and neither had Joyce. But if Jon was there…. It meant they were lying. And people who lied always had something to hide, surely? 

A flurry of images filled her head - Jonathan, scared, locked in his shed. Jonathan, hurt, in a cupboard. Jonathan, dead in the garden. She’d always trusted Joyce and Will - Will was her brother’s something, after all. Nancy's blood ran cold to think of them in that way, as violent, bloodthirsty - 

“But… not, exactly. He’s not… here.” 

Nancy’s train of thought was abruptly cut short. “What do you mean, not exactly? How can he be here, but also not? Is he at the Byer’s house, or isn’t he?”

Robin shifted, looking pained. “He’s at the Byer’s house. Just not in Hawkins.” 

And looking at Robin, Nancy understood. “There’s something else you didn’t tell me, isn’t there.” she said, disappointed. 

Robin looked away. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” Finally, she looked back at Nancy, guilt pooling in her eyes. 

“It’s my fault Jonathan was taken.”

Chapter Text

It should’ve probably come as a surprise to Nancy, to find out that Robin had something to do with Jonathan’s disappearance. But all she could feel was the cold, hard edges of the little voice in her mind crowing, I told you so. It didn’t feel good like it usually did. 

Something deep within her had known with clear clarity that Robin was involved. You don’t find a bedraggled girl in the woods in the middle of the night - a girl, who’d come from a lab, who’d just had her guardian shot in front of her - who wasn’t involved in the recent suspicious circumstances of the disappearance of a fourteen year old boy. She’d hoped, though, that this bright girl, whose laughter could make a room feel ten times lighter and whose eyes seemed to linger on Nancy, seeing her for who she was, unconditionally, was, somehow, inexplicably innocent. But some things were too good to be true, and Robin was the definition of ‘too good’. 

Robin’s eyes cut deep, slicing into Nancy’s flesh and into her heart within, piercing the cracks in ways that someone who she’d known for what - a day? - shouldn’t be able to. “Just give me a chance to explain,” she pleaded, and Nancy was already nodding before her mind fully caught up to her heart. 

“When I was twelve years old, they had me… searching for something. That was the experiment they’d do. Send me into the mind void like a fishing wire, and monitor my brain, and hope one day that I’d find something - anything. And one day I did. 

It was a monster. It had a face like a flower, filled with teeth like thorns, and dripping with blood. It’s limbs were long, almost humanoid - but stretched, with clawlike fingers and toes. I’d never seen anything like it. I’d never even seen an animal, outside of crudely drawn pictures. I was scared. I was just a kid. And - and it came for me, and I was so scared, and something in my mind just… broke. 

And my powers, th-they surged out of me, I’ve never felt anything like it - I wasn't in control anymore, I just needed to get away - and outside my mind, in the lab, something ripped too. I’d created a doorway - a gate - into somewhere else. I didn’t know where at the time, but now… it’s like a mirror of Hawkins. The buildings, the roads, the trees - it’s all the same. And so Jonathan is -” she reached out and flipped over the map, and jabbed a finger into the place where the Byer’s house would be, on the other side of the map. 

“On the other side,” Nancy breathed. She felt almost unable to tear her eyes away from the map, from the faint shapes of houses that could be seen on the other side of the map. 

“The upside down, dude.” Argyle said. It was the first he’d spoken in a while. He was fixated on the map, but as Nancy turned to look at him, he looked up. “Get it? ‘Cause the map is upside down?” 

Nancy blinked. “You mean the name?” she said, confusion edging her voice. “That’s fine, I suppose.”

Then, something occurred to her. She turned to Robin. “How will we get to Jonathan? If he’s in the… upside down?” 

Robin looked defeated. “I don’t know,” she said. “The only gate I know of is in the lab. But that was two years ago, and I don’t know how they would’ve kept it open for this long. Besides,” she shuddered. “I don’t want to go there unless we have to. It’s… not a good place.” 

Nancy sighed. This was useless - trying to find Jon was practically hopeless at this point. They knew where he was, but they couldn’t get there. She’d done it, she’d found him - but in the end, it wasn’t helpful. 

“We should just ask Jon, bro.” Argyle said with a smile. Nancy rubbed her head. She knew Argyle cared about Jon, and he wanted to be there, but she’d have preferred it if he thought a little more. 

But Robin sat up straight, eyes lighting up. “That’s it!” she said excitedly. “We’ll ask Jonathan.” She sprang up from her seat, seemingly unable to contain her energy, and began pacing the floor. “We’ll need a radio - a massive one, with a good signal. Like, able-to-reach-halfway-across-the-globe good. And I’ll need a pool, with salt water.” 

“Where are we going to find a radio like that?” Nancy asked, running through all the options in her head. 

“The AV club, dude.” Argyle replied. “We can go tomorrow, during that real big assembly they got planned.” 

Nancy smiled, relief threading through her. They were going to do it. They were going to get Jonathan back. 

Robin was looking at Nancy. 

Her eyes were fixated on Nancy’s face, lips curled up in a slight smile. Nancy’s fingers burned where she cradled Robin’s face, and really, she’d just learnt her childhood best friend was stuck in an alternate dimension, but all she could focus on was Robin, Robin, Robin. Her hand shook slightly as she dusted blush along Robin’s cheek, and she didn’t know why. Something about Robin always made her want to draw closer to her. 

Nancy could feel Robin’s warm breath on her face, and as she pulled back, she found herself missing the feeling. 

“You’re done,” she said. 

Robin grinned, and it made something in the depths of Nancy's stomach squirm. 

“Do I look pretty?” she asked, striking an overdramatic pose. And although she knew it was a joke, a small voice in her mind breathed Yes.  

A week ago, Nancy would have been stunned to learn that she would be following Argyle to save Jonathan from an alternate dimension, using the powers of a fourteen year old telekinetic girl. But after the events of yesterday - breaking up with Steve Harrington, hearing Jon’s voice on the radio, and learning about the ‘Upside Down’ as Argyle called it, she didn’t think anything could surprise her anymore. 

She was following Argyle to Hawkins High, because apparently that was where the AV club took place. As the squat buildings came into view, Nancy glanced at Robin. She felt like every time she looked, there was something new to discover - an eyelash in disarray, a freckle on her cheek, below her left eye. 

Today, Robin wore Nancy’s clothes - a pink, ruffled blouse and a skirt, in an effort to make her seem less ‘lab experiment’ and more ‘teenage girl’. Nancy thought she looked pretty - though she always did - but somehow unlike herself, like there was something out of place. She didn’t look like Robin. 

As she watched, Robin met Nancy’s gaze with her signature grin. 

“I’ve never been in a real school before,” she said. Nancy smiled at her, though something in the back of her mind was musing about how Robin always seemed so happy, so full of life, despite the situation they were in. It pained her to think that she’d probably had a lot of practice. 

“It’s nothing to be excited about,” Nancy began, but she was interrupted by Argyle. 

“Brochachos, we’re here!” 

Sneaking into Hawkins High proved easier than expected. Nancy simply swanned in through the door, shooting the tired receptionist her ‘perfect well behaved absolutely no chaos happening here’ smile and then continued off through the hallways. 

It was early, and all the students were in their first period classes, leaving a strange sort of silence that was punctuated by the scratch of pens and chairs, underlying chatter, and the occasional shout of a teacher who clearly wanted to quit their job. 

Nancy was beginning to think they’d gotten away with it, when, just outside the AV room, they were stopped. A confused voice echoed down the hallway. “Nancy?” 

Max Mayfield stood in the hallway, two or three metres behind them, the single obstacle between Nancy and entering the AV room. She had one flaming eyebrow arched in suspicion, and earphones dangled around her neck, playing a tinny song that Nancy couldn’t make out. Her red hair was pulled into a ponytail, and under her arm was a worn skateboard. 

“What are you doing here?” 

For once, Nancy was tongue - tied. She glanced at Argyle and Robin, and as her eyes settled on Robin as they always did, an idea sprung to mind. 

“I’m showing Robin around,” she said smoothly. “She missed the tour last month, but she’ll be spending a couple of semesters at Hawkins High next year.” 

Max crossed her arms, looking wholly unimpressed. Then her gaze flicked to Robin, and she looked even more sceptical. 

“Who even are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in Hawkins?” 

“She’s my cousin,” Nancy answered. “From abroad.” 

“And where are you from?” 

“Um,” Robin sent a pleading gaze to Nancy, and she realised that of course Robin didn’t know any geography, she was a lab experiment who’d spent the last two years in some random guy’s shed. But Max’s gaze was unwavering, demanding an answer, and Nancy was pretty sure if another word came out of her mouth, Max would call Mike. Curse her brother’s stupid codependent friend group. 

“A… bad place?” Robin hedged, and Nancy resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. 

“Sweden, dude,” said Argyle, somehow relaxed, and both Nancy and Robin sighed with relief. 

Max still seemed dissatisfied. “And why hasn’t Mike mentioned Swedish cousins before?” she asked, but at that moment the bell rang, and Max rolled her eyes. 

“Look, I have somewhere to be, but I want you to know that I didn’t believe a word of that. Also, you need to have a better Swedish accent.” 

And with that she continued off down the hallway. Not wasting a second, Nancy strode into the AV room with Robin and Argyle on her tail.

When Robin saw the radio, she let out a little whoop. “That’s massive! The ones at the lab were only like…” she held out her hands, making a square the size of a large textbook. “That big.” 

Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that Robin’s smile ignited in her, Nancy pulled out the pintsize container of salt she’d found at the back of her mum’s pantry. “Let’s get started,” she said. “Argyle, can you get out the paddling pool?” 

Argyle somehow pulled the rolled up pool out of his pocket, brandishing it at Nancy. It was at that moment she realised he had not brought a bag. Nancy massaged her head. “Argyle, where’s the water?” she sighed.” 

Argyle beamed at her. “In the ocean, dude!” 

It was moments like these that Nancy appreciated Robin’s cheerful demeanor. If she’d had had crazy telekinetic powers, Argyle would have ended up in the bin hours ago. 

Speaking of Robin, she was examining the radio. “You know,” she said, turning back to Nancy with eyes lit up, flickering with determination. “I could maybe contact Jonathan with this. It’s big enough, and it should help me channel. I won’t be able to do it for long, though.” 

Nancy smiles. Involuntarily, she grasped Robin’s hand, warm fingers clasped between her own. “Let’s save Jonathan,” 

Watching Robin use her powers was just as disconcerting and captivating as the last time Nancy had seen it. There was some sort of internal strength that rose to the surface that wasn’t always obvious in everyday life. Nancy liked to think that she saw it, though.

After what felt like a decade, the Radio crackled to life. Like last time, they could hear Jon’s voice, tinny and laced with fear. He was singing a song… a rock song that Mike often played when Will was in the house. 

Darling, you got to let me know….. Should I stay or should I go? 

But, unlike last time, Robin’s voice joined his. Nancy could see her lips moving, but her voice sounded distant and crackly, like Jon’s. 

“Hello? Jonathan, can you hear me?” 

What? Who are you? 

“My name is Robin. I want to help you.” 

Are… are you God? Am I dead? 

“No! No, you’re not dead. You’re just… somewhere else. There’s lot’s of people who care about you, so I’m going to help you get out, okay?” 

I - Okay. 

“Do you remember how you got there?”

Not really. I remember snippets… Hawkins Lab. I remember the Hawkins Lab sign. 

“Hawkins Lab? Is that how you got there?” Robin’s voice caught, and the force of her guilt was almost tangible. Nancy wished more than ever that she could embrace Robin tight right now, and never let her go. 

No. It took me. 

“It? What is ‘it’?” 

I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s not… human. It’s dangerous. I escaped once, I don’t know -

A screech cut through his voice, a screech that made the hair on Nancy’s neck stand up. It made her skin crawl. 

“Jonathan?” 

Robin’s voice took on a  panicked tone. 

“Jonathan? Jonathan, can you hear me? Jonathan?” 

A pause, and then - 

Hurry. 

A final crackle, and then the radio sparked, causing Robin to rip off the cloth over her eyes, breaths coming lightning fast. Nancy launched herself forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. With the corner of the cloth, she wiped the blood from Robin’s nose. 

When Robin calmed down, she looked up. Her eyes met Nancy’s, so close she could count every individual eyelash. 

“Jonathan’s in trouble,” she said, voice tinged with fear and a healthy dosage of guilt. “We need to find him. I can take us to Hawkins Lab, and knock out the guards - Argyle can stand guard outside the portal whilst I go in, I’ll give you a radio so you can contact me -” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Michael Wheeler stood in the doorway, arms crossed, unimpressed. He was easily a head taller than Nancy herself, and if you looked closely, you could see small similarities with Nancy herself. The waves of his hair, the shape of his eyes. Eyes which, right now, were looking violently unimpressed. 

“Mike.” Nancy sighed. 

“Nancy.” 

“Argyle!” Argyle said happily, playing catch with the rolled - up paddling pool. 

“Um.” said Robin, and Nancy instinctively scooted back a metre. 

“How much of that did you hear,” Nancy asked cautiously. 

Mike paused, as if he was considering what to reveal. “Enough to know that your plan is bullshit , and also, that we need to talk to you all.” 

“We?” Nancy asked. 

“Will,” Mike said, “Get in the car - It’s outside. I think we need to have a talk.”