Chapter Text
July 1988
“Nancy, do you all need anything down there?” Karen Wheeler calls from the top of the basement stairs.
“No, we’re good.” Nancy calls back, wishing for the thousandth time that they had a better option for where to host their weekly movie night. Especially as this would be the last one for quite a while with Robin and Vickie heading out to the East Coast tomorrow and Nancy herself leaving the following weekend.
After losing the Squawk amidst the reopening of Hawkins they had been forced to bounce around between various abodes each came with their own complications.
The Wheeler house was by far the most likely to get invaded by anywhere from one to 5 other people at any given time (although thank God the Byers were gone at long last, with Will and Joyce having moved in with Hop and Jonathan having left for New York months ago. The Buckley house was less chaotic, but the TV was also the smallest and offered very little privacy given its location in the house. Vickie’s apartment had been a pretty decent choice, with her perpetually absentee roommate/landlord not caring about them taking over the space. But Vickie only joined them once a month for their weekly movies, partially because of her schedule at the hospital and partially because while she had become an increasingly welcome figure in their group she felt it was good for them to still have their own private traditions. (If Nancy hadn’t already been fond of Vickie, that consideration would have been enough to sell her as a worthwhile partner for her friend.) That had left Harrington House as the primary base of operations.
Nancy hadn’t minded as much as she thought she would, and there had only been one instance where she had broken down in front of them, once again running off and locking herself in a bathroom. Eventually Robin had been able to coax her into opening up about how she still has nightmares of the pool filling with blood while Barb's rotting corpse stares accusingly up at her. Steve had refused to host anything at the house for three weeks after that until Nancy finally cornered him and admitted that it had helped finally talking about it with someone and he was making things worse by not letting it be her choice.
However Harrington house now stood empty sporting a large FOR SALE sign, and Steve’s hastily packed up life was strewn in boxes crammed over every surface of the new apartment that was not yet ready for socializing.
“It’s not that I don’t believe in your ability to land on your feet Stevie,” Robin said in a way that made you suspect she did in fact question that very ability, “but I think I am justified in worrying about you. Besides, it's not like it would be hard. You’ve barely unpacked, you couldn’t care less about leaving Keith short handed, and you haven't found a new job yet.”
“I do actually have a job lined up.”
“Since when?”
“This past Thursday. Scott, Mr. Clark, is helping to pull some strings. I guess he took pity on me when he found out Mom and Dad were selling the house. I just won’t know for sure for another week or two.”
“So what is this mystery job?”
“I’ll tell you once I’m through my probationary period. Don’t want to jinx it.”
“I just can’t believe you're choosing to stay in Hawkins. My offer still stands. Just forget whatever thing Mr. Clark is trying to set you up with and come out to Massachusetts. I can smuggle you into my dorm until we find a place together. I bet Vic would even be on board with living together if it was the three of us.”
“I’ll be fine Robin, it’s not like it's going to be forever. Besides, you and Vic should have some time to yourself after everything. Enjoy this whole college experience thing without having to worry about your best friend getting in the way.”
“But Steve, you are my platonic lifemate! We are a package deal. Vickie already knows this. It’s part of why I love her. She understands and accepts my strange dependance on you.”
“We’ve talked about this Robin. I can’t just tag along while you are busy with the whole getting a degree thing.”
“But Steeeeeve,” she says again dragging his name out like an irritated child, “all the cool kids are moving to Massachusetts. Me, Vic, Nancy.”
“I still have things I need to do here.” He says it in a tone infused with a finality that even Robin can’t ignore.
She glares at him with a disappointed pout but doesn’t push any farther. Instead getting up to put the tape she has selected for the evening into the VCR.
Unlike Robin who had been living in a steady stream of denial about Steve’s likelihood of joining them out on the East Coast, Nancy has been preparing for this reality since just after New Years.
Enough time had passed since that fateful November 6th that the haze of victory had finally cleared away, exposing the reality of their situation. Hopper and Joyce had retreated into their own world following their release from captivity. The loss of El having taken a different toll on her adoptive parents. And while they still could and would make themselves available for things when asked in the strictest sense of the word, when it came to emotional availability they might as well have been back in Russia. This once again left the children looking to the older crew for guidance. Now most of them are headed to college.
She hadn’t really thought about the implications of it all initially. Submitting her confirmation that she was ready to end her deferment at Emmerson before they had even moved back into their Demogorgon ravaged house. Jonathan had put in his application to NYU only a few weeks later after learning that the Byers would receive a payout for the loss of their California home. Nancy had thought that Robin might stay behind with Steve even though she had applied to several universities herself, instead choosing to continue her work at the Squawk. But when Jimmy Fast-Hands came back in March, deed to the building in hand, she had been left trying to figure out what to do with her future. When she and Vickie both received acceptance letters to Smith (only a short two hours away from Nancy in Boston,) it seemed like fate. A perfect new start. Robin had just never dreamed that Steve wouldn’t be joining them.
But Nancy had seen the writing on the wall. Steve was left as the last semi-adult standing.
She sees the way that once again the Party has gathered around him like he is their guardian, the sworn protector who they could depend on even now. The one who stood unflinchingly in front of them with assault rifles pointed at his chest in the Mac-Z prison cells, but who wouldl also sneak them into movies and buy them ice cream to help ease their pain. She sees the way he seems to have gained some form of shared custody of Max whose mother is still counted as Missing. (Whether she was lost to the rift or simply fled Hawkins in grief Nancy doesn’t know. The Sinclair’s have been looking into it.) Sees that he is letting the boys teach him how to play DnD even though he is really terrible at it, since Max is only willing to do it if he will and it is one of the only things that has tempted Mike out of his room. Even the new kids flock around him like newly imprinted goslings. Holly and her other traumatized friends only ever have known this self-actualized version of him that seems to be the incarnation of a hero from one of their books. She is pretty sure Derek’s new life goal is to be Steve Harrington when he grows up.
He had promised her many years ago that he would keep them all safe, and he is still living up to his word.
The TV blares to life as Robin sits down next to Steve, Nancy having graciously (in her opinion) given up her usual middle seat in favor of her friend. After all, she still gets Steve for another week.
“So what are we watching Robs?” Steve asks, opening his arms so that Robin can curl up on top of him.
“Well it is one of my favorite movies, Humphry Bogart and Audrey Hepburn both masterful as always, although the role was originally intended for Carey Grant not Bogart. It's the love story of a girl torn between two brothers while on a journey of self discovery, the younger brother who she believe she is destined to love but who only loves her when she is the answer to his problems, and the older brother who falls in love with her knowing they were never meant to be but ultimately realizes that he needs to prioritize his happiness with her over his duty to his family.”
Nancy glares at Robin, who is pointedly ignoring her judgemental look. Perhaps Robin was a little less obtuse about everything than she seemed given the rather pointed commentary of the film in question, and Nancy doesn’t particularly want Robin offering her up as a bargaining chip in her war to break Steve’s resolve.
Still it doesn’t stop her from slotting herself into the cuddle pile as well.
Steve for his part doesn’t say anything, simply getting comfortable and picking up the large bowl of popcorn.
They are surprisingly quiet for a movie night. Largely content to just cuddle together either lost in their own thoughts or potentially watching the actual movie.
Nancy does actually find herself paying attention to the characters. She is happy that for all of her earlier annoyance at Robin’s clear allusion to her own love triangle woes there isn’t a lot of similarity in personality to any of those involved.
Audrey Hepburn’s heroine Sabrina is quirky, fanciful, and optimistic in a way that Nancy hadn’t been even back in the pre-Vecna days. The character is likable and charming but lacks her own sense of self through much of the film, which had never been Nancy’s particular vice.
Instead she ends up far more intrigued by Bogart's character Linus. The responsible elder brother, completely focused on his goal and career, having hardened himself after disappointment and tragedy in his youth. And yet, he finds himself gravitating towards the girl he should be getting rid of, who is a risk to all of his best laid plans for his family’s future.
This is the character that Nancy finds a kinship with. The one who knows they gave up the right to deserve that kind of happiness when they chose to harden themself instead. The one who would have shipped the love of his life off to Paris and lived out his life of regret if his brother didn’t intervene at the last minute to save him from himself.
But Nancy can’t hope for the same sort of familial intervention. Not when her sister resents her for leaving so soon without giving her a good explanation as to why she feels the compulsion to flee halfway across the country, and her brother playing the role of a teenaged widower too consumed with his own grief to see that her own had never healed. She doesn’t resent him for it. She knows what it is like to lose a piece of yourself.
Instead she lets her mind wander to the other central message of the film- the idea that sometimes you have to give yourself a new space and new perspective to figure out how to be the version of yourself that can survive in the world. She is hoping that that is what she can find in Boston. Even if she dreads the mundane repetition of classes after years of life or death circumstances. Even if the dream that used to be so central to her vision of a perfect happy future now seems like empty set dressing to what she actually was hoping she would find at Emmerson. Even if she is terrified that she has made the selfish choice, not the practical one, by trying to heal herself before she tries to lift up anyone else.
As much as she cares for others and can fight the good fight with the best of them, she never had Steve’s talent for self sacrifice when it comes to the aftermath.
The film ends happily as they always do. The two lovers sail off together into the sunset to find their happiness in Paris while the irresponsible younger brother steps up to handle the real world responsibilities in their absence. It’s a nice thought.
“I can’t believe this is going to be our last movie night,” Robin moans.
“Our last movie night for now Rob,” Steve says back irritated, clearly reaching his boiling point with her needling about their separation. “You don’t have to be so damn depressing about it!”
She picks up one of the pillows and shoves it directly into his face.
“Well then it’s a good thing I picked out the perfect thing to round out the evening with,” she says. “Nance would you be an angel and put it in so I don’t have to move?”
“Hey, don’t I get to get up and stretch?”
“No.”
He doesn’t argue with her, simply rolling his eyes and patting her on the back like he’s soothing an irritable toddler.
Nancy gets up and goes over to Robin’s bag where a haphazardly wrapped cassette was waiting. She bites her lip to keep from laughing and ruining Robin’s fun when she sees the familiar label on the tape. Instead she simply puts it into the VCR and returns to the couch.
“So what exactly are we watching?” Steve asks twisting to get more comfortable on the couch without fully dislodging Robin.
“You’ll see.”
Nancy is surprised that it takes as long as it does for Steve to recognize the film. Personally she felt that between the music and the owl in the opening credits that he should have been able to piece it together. But it isn’t until he sees Sarah standing in the park monologuing about fighting her way to the castle beyond the goblin city that he lets out a long suffering groan of displeasure.
“You can’t be serious! Why would you make me watch this again!”
“This was the first movie we all watched together, I thought it was fitting that it would also be the last.”
“I’ve already told you it’s not going to be the last! If for no other reason than I would die a thousand deaths before I let this acid trip excuse for a movie be the last one we ever watch together.”
Nancy can’t help but laugh. She rather thinks that might have been Robin’s plan. To make sure that this is just a pause and not an ending by rousing Steve ire at Jareth the Goblin King.
“Come on Steve,” Nancy says, “you have to admit it was a pretty great night last time we watched this. Would it really be so bad to do it again?”
His glare is turned on her now, a look of exaggerated betrayal. Robin holds out her palm for a high five at the show of support.
“Fine,” he pouts. “For you two I will suffer through this crap again.”
“Love you too dingus,” Robin says fondly.
“Ok Nance, this time you have to help me decide which one of these muppets is Tammy.”
~~~
Robin falls asleep about two thirds of the way through the movie, the long days of stress getting everything ready for her departure tomorrow finally catching up to her.
Nancy surreptitiously lowers the volume every few minutes until it is just a gentle murmur in the background, her and Steve talking over the movie that neither of them are particularly invested in when the alternative is each other's company.
She tells him which classes she is most looking forward to in her first semester and about her relief that her father had been willing to cover the expense of getting her a small apartment instead of student housing. (She still struggles with nightmares and doesn’t want the complication of explaining them to a roommate.) He in turn confides that his new job is at the middle school, although he still won’t divulge the details. Eventually they reach the subject of Robin’s imminent departure and her anxiety about leaving Steve behind in Hawkins.
“She keeps saying that I’m settling. Like by not packing up and leaving like the rest of you I am somehow throwing my life away. I’m twenty-two for fuck sake its not exactly having a midlife crisis. And she acts like I am doing this because I think I have to and not because I am choosing to. And I just don’t know what to tell her. Because, I mean, yes! It’s not like I am happy about this whole situation, I know this is me making the best out of the shitty hand we all got dealt here, but if I tell her anything that sounds like I am not one hundred percent on board then she is just going to dig in her heels even more.”
He gently runs his fingers through Robin’s hair as she continues to let out a soft snore.
“She’s just upset because she’s going to miss you,” Nancy says stating the obvious because what else is there to say.
“I know that. It’s not like I’m not going to miss her. God I am going to miss all of you so goddamn much. Robin, Vickie… you.”
He looks at her and she can see the indecision that he has been so careful to keep hidden. The fear of being the boy in a lonely house watching as the people he loved walked away only to return who knows when.
She feels a moment of panic. The fear that maybe Robin was right and that he isn’t doing something noble and necessary but something idiotic. That he is more like her than she gives him credit for and is punishing himself with isolation.
“Would it make a difference,” Nancy asks quietly. “If I ask you to come with us?”
“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” His voice is so soft she can barely catch the words, and he refuses to meet her gaze.
She realizes that it would make a difference. That she could beg him to follow her and he would do as she asks even though he knows that she still isn’t ready for what he could offer her. That he is still unable to deny her anything. That he would betray his own sense of duty for the temptation she could offer him.
But she knows she would be asking him to break his heart for her, and she has already done that to him once. This time it is her turn to accept the separation with grace. To trust that he knows his own mind.
It won’t be as painful this time. They both know how to weather storms now. And she is no longer afraid that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is a long way off.
“It’s not like we won’t see each other,” she says instead as a peace offering. “We’ll all be coming home for the holiday’s, and it’s not like phones don’t exist.”
“Exactly,” she can see the relief in his eyes at her acquiescence. “I mean I’ve managed to keep in touch with Jonathan and we can barely stand each other.”
“You keep in touch with Jonathan?” Nancy asks genuinely surprised. She herself has only gotten a grand total of one phone call and two postcards since Jonathan moved to New York almost four months ago. And she had put in the effort to try to salvage the friendship buried beneath their disastrous relationship before he left.
“Apparently I have a better grasp on the state of Will’s emotional well being than Joyce or the chief.”
“Oh, well that makes sense.”
They both laugh which causes Robin to stir, tossing fitfully in her uncomfortable position. Steve decides to use the opportunity to sneak out from under his flailing friend and remove himself from the couch. Once he is safely away he covers Robin with a blanket and she is back to being out cold.
“Should we take this somewhere else?” he asks, “I think she could use the sleep. At least for a little while. Big day tomorrow and all.”
Nancy nods, leading the way quietly up the stairs. She thinks initially about going up to her room but it is a mess of half packed bags (and there is no reason for Steve to see that tonight even if he inevitably will before the end of the week) plus there is a chance that Holly will spy on them if they do. So instead she heads out to the back porch.
They don’t bother to sit, instead just standing side by side leaning against the house listening to the quiet sounds of Hawkins at night.
She thinks about the life waiting for her in Boston. A new beginning with new challenges, new opportunities, new people.
She thinks that it will be good to leave this place behind. To give herself the space to figure out what her dreams look like now that the dust has settled.
There is one part… the most important part.
She knows that her one regret with leaving isn’t her life in Hawkins or even her family even though maybe they should be. It will be this boy. The one always waiting for her.
She can’t stop the insidious voice of fear whispering in the back of her head. That she is still the same selfish cruel girl who uses the people around her. A girl that killed her best friend to be with a boy who she fears she is killing slowly in return.
She has still never given him an answer.
She doesn’t believe that Steve is settling by choosing to stay in Hawkins, she knows him better than that. But she knows there is one way that he is settling. And if she is unable to meet him where he is at, then she should at least be strong enough to stop being selfish.
“Steve?”
“Yeah Nance?”
She forces herself to vocalize the thoughts spinning in her head, even though they taste like Bile in her throat.
“If you meet someone, here in Hawkins, while I’m in Boston. You should at least give it a shot.”
He looks surprised by her unexpected comment, and perhaps a little amused.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve already dated everyone in Hawkins worth talking to,” he jokes.
“Steve, I'm serious! I just… I don’t want you to wait for me. Not when I still can't even tell you what I want.”
It’s not entirely true. She knows she wants him. She has known that for a while. She suspects she has known that since he first told her that she is the most important part of his dream.
What she doesn’t know is who she is or where she is going. How to separate out her feelings from the trauma that she has been suppressing for the last five years. She doesn’t know if she can be with him and not hate herself for finding happiness that she doesn’t think she deserves. (because he would make her happy, she knows that like she knows her own name.) She just doesn’t know if she can be with him without destroying them both in the process.
So she says that she doesn’t know what she wants because it’s as close to the truth as she can manage.
“Isn’t that my choice?” he asks, not accusingly. It’s still colored by that same soft amusement. It reminds her of when she was trying to explain the symbolism of Kaftka's Metamorphosis to him back in junior year, only this time she is the one who doesn’t understand the narrative.
“It is.” she says, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling that he is somehow ten steps ahead of her when she is the one trying to have a profound moment of growth and accountability. “I know that it is. I just… I think it’s still important that I say it. And that you know that I mean it. That I want you to be happy. And I don’t want you to hold back on trying to find that happiness just because I am not a part of it. You deserve to have someone who is able to build a life with you. And I’ll still be here for you, whatever happens. I’m not going to run away this time if something doesn’t work out the way I want it to, like if you find someone else that is ready to settle down and have six kids, or if things get complicated, because…”
“Because I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in it at all,” he says as if reading her thoughts. He is looking at her with an expression that she can’t quite figure out. Like he is trying to solve a puzzle. Or maybe like he just did and is waiting for her to catch up.
“Alright, Nancy Wheeler. I will make you a promise. I promise that I won’t spend the next year, two years, ten years, however long you’re imagining in that head of yours wasting away doing nothing but pining over you.That I’ll go on dates with girls who I know I don’t have a future with just in case it turns out I’m wrong.”
“Steve…”
“‘I’ll give you my promise that I won’t put my whole life on hold while you figure yourself out or whatever else it is you need to do. But if I am going to do that, then I want something in return.”
“Alright.”
She already knows she is going to say yes. That there isn't anything he could possibly ask for that she could deny him. Not when he continues to give her so much- love, patience, friendship, forgiveness, space- at what she knows must be great personal cost. “What do you want?”
“Just once, I want to kiss you before you go.”
It’s such a simple thing, and yet it might be one of the most monumental things he could have asked of her. Because she knows it isn’t just a kiss. How could it be between the two of them? What he’s really asking for is a moment, just one moment, where they ignore all the fear and complications and just allow themselves to feel. To be honest about what they both want even if it is something they have silently agreed that they can’t have. A moment of acknowledgement of that confession he made to her so long ago in the deep blue black shadows of the upside-down that she is at the center of his dreams.
He is still watching her, waiting to see what she will say, and she lets herself become lost in his eyes. Those eyes that have seen her at her best and even more often at her worst and yet keep coming back to her over and over again. Eyes that have seen unimaginable horrors and yet still are full of more hope and trust than any she has ever known.
How could she possibly say no to him? To this…
But she doesn’t have the words, so instead she just nods, hoping that is enough for him to understand that she agrees to his terms.
He steps towards her, one hand coming around to the small of her back pulling her close, the other resting against her cheek, tilting her face up towards him. He hesitates, giving her a final chance to pull away, to back out. She doesn’t back down. Instead she gives him a tiny smile.
The kiss is slow, deliberate. The hand that was at her cheek sliding back to cradle her head and tug at her hair as his mouth explores hers with a self-possessed confidence that didn’t exist yet back when they were together. Lips and tongue moulding to hers in a way that redefines all of her expectations on what it is like to be kissed by Steve Harrington.
Her mind goes blank, knees threatening to buckle at the overwhelming sensations of need and want and consummation, but the hand at her back holds her steady. Her own hands find their way up to bury themselves in his hair. He tastes of cherry and chocolate and buttered popcorn, and a future filled with endless laughter. He feels like coming home. Not to this home on Maple drive with its hastily repainted walls and echos of bloodstained floors, but the home she imagined before she knew that men could become monsters and that monsters could shatter the world into pieces. A home where dreams are celebrated not abandoned, where there is no pretenses, no regard for stifling expectations of society, just acceptance and support and endless, endless love.
The kiss is long and deep and ends far too soon, and she can’t help the small whimper that escapes her as he pulls away.
Nancy knows that this kiss is the one she will be comparing all others to until the day she dies.
She selfishly hopes that he will too.
She wants to push up on her toes and capture his lips again. Drag him back to her and throw all of her carefully laid plans out the window. Relearn every kiss and caress they ever shared before and see how many more of her pleasant memories will pale in comparison to the reality of what they are now. To lose herself in the sensation of him, him, him.
But Steve has never broken a promise to her, not since that heartbreaking night where he willingly let her go off with another lover, and he has already loosened his grasp.
He doesn’t let her go completely, instead wrapping her into a gentle hug, his cheek resting against the crown of her head. He has shifted back into the dear friend who is content to simply be by her side. Who will spend the next week helping her pack her things before loading her into her car and watching her disappear across the country while he stays behind to guard everything that is most precious to them both.
She doesn’t think she has ever loved him as much as she does at this moment.
But that cruel voice in her head that speaks with the cadence of a girl long dead is still telling her that she cannot have him. He isn’t for her.
This isn’t you.
She needs to allow herself to become somebody new. Somebody who can quiet that voice.
So she follows his lead and allows the moment to pass and her own self-imposed status quo to return.
“Did you want to go back inside?” she asks, although she makes no move in that direction.
“Not yet,” he says.
They just stand, held together in a careful embrace on the Wheelers back porch for a good ten minutes.
“What are you thinking?” she offers when the silence finally stretches too long for her to justify not saying something or breaking away from him.
He chuckles under his breath. He knows she is stalling.
“I’m thinking that you set a very high bar, Nancy Wheeler.”
She flushes in pleasure, even though she knows that it is contrary to everything she said earlier.
“So do you, Steve Harrington. So do you.”