Chapter Text
September 1987
Nancy splashes water on her face and hopes that it will hide the worst evidence of her breakdown.
The crawl had been a disaster from the start, technical malfunctions, miscommunications, one problem after another.
They had lost contact with Hopper for almost seven whole minutes before Dustin and Steve had managed to recapture the signal.
Joyce and El had been frantic with worry which had brought out the worst in both Mike and Jonathan. Not that their foul tempers had done anything to help the situation.
Mike had been practically screaming into his walkie, begging someone to hold onto El to keep her from running straight to the Mac-Z and storming the gate, consequences be damned. Joyce had abandoned the coms to do exactly that, while Lucas conveyed in a panic that Mike had abandoned him at the watchtower to run back to HQ to be with El.
This had left Nancy in charge of the coms, trying to coordinate a new plan on the fly with Lucas, Dustin and Steve. But while she was distracted, conferring with Robin as to the most likely place that Hop would go to and where best to try and catch the signal, Jonathan decided to take over the comms. For some reason beyond her comprehension he then decided to use the opportunity to start telling the others- particularly Steve- everything they were doing wrong.
It had all sort of blurred together after that. Dustin (apparently having decided that for this evening at least he was the only person allowed to treat Steve like an emotional punching bag) had gotten into a nasty and surprisingly colorful verbal fight with Jonathan that ended with Dustin actively cutting off communication with HQ, refusing to relay any updates to anyone save Lucas. This of course was when Mike arrived on scene and immediately jumped into the frey ready to blame everyone and everything except El and Will.
Somehow, miraculously, during all of this chaos, the radio silent Squawkmobile team managed to reconnect Hopper's signal and allow them to technically complete a successful crawl even with Lucas having to act as a radio go-between. But the damage was done. The whole evening had been a powder-keg just waiting to explode.
Nancy’s ears were still ringing from the fight that had ensued once everyone had arrived back at the Squawk- her trying and failing to act as referee- and finally culminating in her first public screaming match with Jonathan before bursting into tears and locking herself in the bathroom.
That had been around 20 minutes ago. And while she has been able to hear the loud ruckus of the Party splitting up and heading home to lick their respective wounds, she also knows that there is almost no chance she has been left completely on her own. Or that anyone who had bothered to listen would not have been able to hear her sobbing from the other side of the door.
She is terrified of who all might be waiting there now.
She presses her ear against the wood, listening for any telltale signs, but is met with just the general white noise of the Station.
As gently as possible she swings open the door.
At first it looks as if the room is empty, but then there is a flurry of movement as Robin scrambles to her feet from where she had been sitting back against the wall near the door but just out of Nancy’s line of vision.
“Don’t worry, it’s just me.” She says, and Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of relief. “ I convinced Joyce that you would be better off if we gave you some space and that she and Hop should focus on calming down El. And Steve convinced Mike to convince Will to convince Jonathan to take them all home.”
“How did he pull that off?” Nancy says, her joking tone doing little to disguise how hoarse and brittle her voice sounds.
“It was actually quite clever.” Robin admits, looping an arm around Nancy’s and gently pulling her towards the kitchenette. “Right after you locked yourself in there, while Jonathan was still trying to get you to open the door? Well, Steve pulled Mike and I into the other room and told him that if he ever wants help sneaking extra dates behind Hopper's back again that it was his job to make sure that everyone left you alone and that I would stay behind and make sure you get home. Then Steve goes into full drama queen mode, storms out of the Squawk, dragging Dustin along with him saying that they are going home because the two of them shouldn’t have to, and I quote, ‘listen to Jonathan’s condescending delusional bullshit.’ This of course was the genius of it all because Jonathan was never going to leave if he thought Steve was still here to be your knight in letter-jacket armor, but once it became clear that he was out of the picture, well all bets were off. So anyways Mike, who clearly had been plotting during this whole spectacle, then signals to Will who literally swooned like a goddamn Victorian noblewoman. Seriously. I thought he was laying it on a little thick but the kid knows his audience because they were all just eating it up I tell you. Everybody’s attention is now on him.
So Joyce obviously is like, ‘we have to drop everything and carry WIll home because he is a fragile little baby’, but Mike, brilliant little shit that he is, starts going ‘well what about El? Who is gonna take her and Hopper home if you go with Will? He can't drive when he’s been drinking.’ Now obviously this makes the chief go livid because Mike said it in that tone, you know, the one he uses that makes it seem like he is insinuating the worst possible thing. So Hop is pissed. I’m talking full tomato red anger, but it isn’t really helping his case that he was still holding one of the bottles of Scotch we liberated from Steve’s basement. Anyways before he can murder your sibling Joyce decides that it's time for her to intervene. Maybe it's because she agreed with Mike or maybe because she knew the chief was going to strangle him, but she immediately told Jonathan to drive Will, Mike and Lucas back to the house and that she would get Hop and El back to the cabin. For a minute I thought that Jonathan might put up a fight, even with his dreaded rival out of the way, since I would imagine even he realized at this point what a shit boyfriend he was being what with you locking the door in his face. So Mike and I are shooting each other looks like- well what do we do now? But then Will, aspiring little thespian that he is, pulled out the big baby deer eyes and was like- ‘I don’t feel so good, maybe I need to lie down,’ and next thing you know Jonathan has the kids packed into the car and headed back to Casa de Wheeler. Joyce, Hop, and El left shortly after that, and that just leaves you and me.”
Nancy can picture the entire scene as Robin describes it. Steve’s bombastic display of offended pride, Mike’s lighting quick transitions between cunning schemer and wide eyed accuser, Jonathan’s pinched guilty expression as his anger and ego subside and he realizes that he was in the wrong, but ultimately doing nothing to fix it and choosing to prioritize his brother over her.
She knows there are going to be more than a few uncomfortable conversations in her future.
The dams she has been trying so hard to fortify are starting to crack beyond repair. The lies she’s been hiding behind will no longer be believable and she will only be able to get away with silence for so long. Maybe a few more months if she is lucky.
But at least none of them have to be tonight.
“Thank you for doing that,” Nancy says.
“Don’t thank me, I’m not the one the children listen to.”
“I know, but you helped make it happen and I don’t think I could bear to see everyone right now.”
She meets Robin's gaze and tries to convey what she really means and can’t verbalize. That she feels like she is dangling over a cliff, holding on to a rope that is already on fire. That she knows she can’t keep running away forever but she doesn’t know how to stop when there are monsters at her heels.
“I know.” Robin says, and Nancy thinks she might actually.
She fills two glasses with water and hands one of them to Nancy, before leaning against the counter with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Thanks for sticking up for me by the way. I know you don’t like to lose your cool in public like that and… it means a lot, so thank you.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything. Sticking up for Robin against Jonathan,( who had drawn his ire for the mortal sin of defending Steve), had been the easy part. She really should have intervened sooner instead of allowing everyone else to carry the weight for her. But Robin has always been surprisingly understanding of Nancy’s need to hide her emotions behind a mask of normalcy.
“Just so that we’re clear, you do realize that Steve is going to double back as soon as he has dropped off Dustin and will probably be here any minute.”
Nancy laughs. “Yes I figured that out.”
“Did you still want to be here when that happens? I promised to take you home if you’d rather just sleep it off.”
She could do that. Go home and try to bury this night next to all the other skeletons that are piling up in her closet graveyard. Pretend like everything is fine. Pretend that she has everything under control. Like her and Jonathan aren’t tearing apart at the seams. Like everything is as perfect as it can be in a town overrun with soldiers hellbent on villainizing a little girl because it is easier than hunting a demon.
You’re pretending like everything’s ok. Like we’re in love… it’s all Bullshit.
When had she become such a hypocrite?
“I’d rather stay,” she admits. And then, because this is the one place in this nightmare world she lives in that she allows herself to be honest, “Steve isn’t the problem.”
“Don’t tell him that, I don’t want it to go to his head. Right now I think we have him at the perfect ego to hair ratio and I would hate to ruin that.”
They look at each other, both holding back smiles, trying to see who can win the impromptu staring contest before they both break into soft giggles, letting the stress of the last several hours ebb away.
They stay in companionable silence, drinking their waters and waiting for the sound of the door.
Sure enough, a few minutes later they hear him arrive.
“Robin? Rob, you still here?”
“We’re in here,” Robin shouts out.
He comes to join them only looking a little worse for wear given the eventful evening carrying a large dufflebag.
He looks them both over. Nancy is sure he can see the rumpled hair and clothes, the redness around her eyes. But it must not be as bad now as when she saw herself in the mirror because he doesn’t push, instead just giving them both a nod and a rye smile.
“SO… movie night?”
~~~
Steve’s dufflebag it turns out is the result of a hasty raid on the Harrington Estate. Assorted snacks, a new pillow for the growing collection they keep here, a few new bottles of alcohol to replace whatever was depleted this evening, and a bag of VHS tapes.
Steve hasn’t said a word since offering up the suggestion of this impromptu movie night, instead immediately rearranging the furniture and pulling out their stash of blankets like he is on a deadline.
She hates it.
He isn’t even mad at her, although part of her thinks he probably should be.
It isn’t some form of weaponized passive aggressive anger. Instead it is a stubborn, willful refusal to broach what happened in front of her.
Because they don’t talk about Jonathan. It’s a forbidden topic. A looming storm cloud in the landscape of their friendship. Right up there dreams of summers on the road and an army of mini Harringtons, with lingering looks that last too long to be platonic with a capital P on either side. Right up there with Barb.
“Steve…” she starts but realizes immediately that she has no idea what to say. Does she apologize for tonight even though she is not the one who should be offering an apology? Does she apologize for letting things get so bad in the first place? For the thousands of things she should have said over the past six years or the thousand more she deliberately didn’t say in the past two?
“Look you don’t have to say anything Nancy.” Steve says, his voice mellowing into that calm acceptance that he always has in endless reserve for her. Only this time she doesn’t want to accept it.
“Steve-”
He turns away, cutting her off before she can even attempt to begin again. “You don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to talk about it. So let’s just not talk about it.”
“Well I want to talk about it,” Robin interrupts, “Tonight was a complete and total shitshow and we all know it, and if this was any other night we would be talking about it.”
“Robin-”
“And maybe you are ok with letting things slide most of the time because of this whole soap opera that we all collectively agreed not to bring up, but this goes way past who is pulling on whose pigtails and if it had been anybody else acting like that we would be talking about it!”
“She’s right.”
Nancy’s voice is barely above a whisper but the others both freeze and look at her. Nancy pushes back the tears she can feel building up again. She has cried enough already today. “Robin’s right. If it had been Lucas or Hopper or Dustin acting like an idiot we would talk about it. He had no right to go after you like that, or Dustin. He certainly shouldn’t have said what he did to Robin. So yes, maybe we should talk about it.”
“See?” Robin says, “Even Nance is willing to clear the air, and it’s Nance! No offence.”
“Robin, just let it go." Steve says, "It's not that big of a deal-"
"Not that big a-"
"Who care's if Byers hates me. It's not like really matters in the grand scheme of things. It's not like anything is going to change."
His tone is calm and rational, but its obvious that Steve is barely holding back. His hands running distractedly through his hair while he paces the small room.
"So you're what supposed to just take whatever shit gets thrown at you? That's idiotic Steve and you know it."
"Oh and you have a better idea?"
"Yes! Talk to us about it."
"No."
"Yes!"
"Robin..." Steve stops and fixes her with a glare stronger than Nancy has ever seen turned on his best friend.
“You can’t keep bottling this up forever or you're going to explode.” Robin says in a tone that brooks no argument.
“You really want me to go there?”
“Yes!” Robin shouts, flinging her arms out like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He whirls on Nancy instead.
“You really want me to be honest right now?” he glowers.
“Yes,” she says simply.
“Fine! Your boyfriend is an overbearing, self-righteous, pot-head asshole! Whatever goddamn problem he has with me, or with the rest of the fucking world, he needs to get over it because I am sick of dealing with his bullshit. I’m here because I am not about to abandon my friends, friends, during the goddamn apocalypse! Not because I need to prove something to Jonathan Fucking Byers! I used to think that there must be something so great about this guy because hell, you chose him! And Will… Will thinks he’s awesome and, you know, he’s a great kid! Smart too. But whatever it was that made Byers so damn special, well he must have forgotten it back in California because I sure haven’t seen heads or tails of THAT guy since he rolled into town reeking worse than Tommy’s Basement after a kegger. And I swear to god if he ever tries to pull a stunt like that again I am going to kick his ass! And I’ll win this time because he’ll be too fucking high to stop me!”
Steve punctuates his tirade by grabbing up an empty soda can and flinging it full force across the room. It slams against the stain on the wall before falling crumpled to the floor. Nancy doesn’t fail to see the irony in that.
Steve’s breathing is heavy, his face lightly flushed from his outburst, hair just a little disheveled from his hands running through it. Nancy curls her hands, digging her fingernails into her palms to distract from the rush of warmth that jolts through her body at the sight. This is not the time for her inappropriate daydreams.
He takes a few deep breaths and then turns to look directly at her with an expression that makes her heart ache. Not one of the vulnerable heart on his sleeve looks that haunt her more pleasant dreams. This one is guarded, deliberately neutral. Like he is waiting for her to push him away even after everything they have been through, but won’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing how much that would kill him. She hates this expression on his face. Hates more that he likely learned it from her.
She wishes that she had the words to tell him that she understands. That she doesn’t blame him for his feelings about Jonathan, about her, about any of it. That she is the one who doesn’t know what she wants and is too overwhelmed or too cowardly to figure it out. That even with all of that out of the picture he is still one of the dearest people in the world to her and that she doesn’t know if there is much that could ever change that. Not anymore.
She doesn’t have the words, but she tries to tell him anyway. She smiles gently and meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing him to see into her mind, into her soul. He was always good at seeing her.
She must be doing something right because his expression softens to one of understanding tinged with a shade of resignation.
It isn’t perfect, but it is the best she can do for now. When there are so many other problems circling their door like hungry wolves.
Robin comes up behind Steve and throws her arms around Steve's waist, burning her face into his back and squeezing tightly.
“Do you feel better now?” she asks, voice slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
“No,” he replies petulantly, but Nancy can see the hint of liveliness shining in his eyes, his mouth twitching in the slight beginnings of a smile.
“Not even a little bit?” she whines.
It’s enough to crack him. He twists in her embrace fast enough to throw her off balance and uses the opportunity to sweep her up into a fireman’s carry.
“Steve! Steve put me down!” Robin shrieks, but he just laughs, running her in a full circle around the room before dropping her unceremoniously into her usual spot on the couch.
“So what movie are we watching this evening?” Robin asks.
“So it’s a movie about Sherlock Holmes…” Steve says, putting a tape into the VCR. “Only he’s a mouse.”
~~~
It’s interesting watching something so different.
Most of the movie nights Nancy has been to have been Robin’s choice which tend to cover a broad spectrum. She herself had brought a few films- mostly classics to stay on the safe side. The only time Steve had been the one to select the movie before now had been in July when they had watched Back to the Future which had been overshadowed by them sharing their versions of what had gone down when the Starcourt Mall had been destroyed.
She would not have expected Steve of all people to choose an animated film, and yet strangely it made sense. The bright colors, the over the top expressions that suck you into the heightened emotions. Even the songs that he would never admit to singing along to.
It doesn’t escape Nancy’s notice that the movie is heavily centered around a found family and more particularly safeguarding a precocious child.
She remembers the Creel house, picking cobwebs out of Steve’s hair while he awkwardly misquotes Sherlock Holmes before running off like their brief moment of intimacy had overloaded his system.
She wonders if that connection had any influence on his choice of film.
“I can’t believe that Steve Harrington watches Disney movies.” Robin says as they are watching the Mousy Holmes stand-in frantically running an experiment in hopes of tracking down their adversary.
“I’m allowed to have layers, Robin!” Steve grumbles.
“Yeah but when did you even see this?” She asks, picking up the cassette box and scanning the back. “I didn’t go with you, and It’s not like this came out when you were a kid, this is like new. Like, came out last year new.”
“Yeah I went with… what’s her name… Amber.”
Nancy can’t help the reflective flinch. Steve, who had been absently running fingers through her hair, goes completely still.
“Amber? The one who said she had gotten drunk off of root beer?”
“It was a couple of dates Robin, it’s not like I was gonna marry the girl.”
“Yeah but you went out with her like four times even though you clearly hated her! It made no… wait… Oh my God! She was your movie beard!”
“My what?”
“And excuse to see all the movies you wanted that aren’t cool enough for Steve Harrington because everyone would assume that she picked the movie and you were just going along with it in the hopes of getting laid.”
“Oh… yeah that’s pretty accurate.”
Nancy tries not to focus on the small thrill of delight she feels at the idea that Steve was more interested in the exploits of cartoon mice than his random date, when most of their movie dates back in junior year hadn’t made it further than the parking lot before they got… distracted.
She let’s herself get caught back up in the lighthearted adventure of the movie.
It reminds her a bit of watching Steve and Dustin interact. Back before Eddie’s loss.
She suspects that may play a part in why he was attached to this particular film. A way for him to remember what it is they are all fighting for even in the midst of everything happening.
It’s a nice reminder for her too.
“Steve…” Robin asks.
“Yeah Rob?”
“Is that mouse a stripper???”
~~~
Dawn was almost breaking when Robin finally dropped her off back at Maple drive, letting her out at the end of the driveway so as not to risk waking the household.
She walks up to the front door, (Better to wake up her parents than the Byers) unlocking it as quietly as possible, turning back to give Robin a small wave to let her know she’s good.
Robin gives her a jaunty two finger salute in return before driving away.
Nancy pushes open the door just wide enough to avoid it creaking, but even as she is about to successfully stealth her way back into her home she hesitates. Pulling the door partially closed to keep the wind from throwing it open she rushes back to the driveway towards her car that she has been sharing with Jonathan. She unlatches the trunk, pulling it open and ripping up the carpet covering the spare tire.
Sure enough, tucked in the corner is a double bagged stash of Purple Palm Tree Delight.
She snatches it up, and returns back to the house, slipping in unnoticed and tiptoeing up the stairs to her room.
She changes into her most comfortable pair of pink pajamas and then marches to the bathroom and flushes Jonathan’s entire stash before heading to bed.
She falls asleep with a smile on her face.