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jerry-hornes-foot · 2 years

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I'm Sorry, Robin...

Feeling soft about my favourite friends

3525 words

18+ only

Hurt/Comfort

Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley

Tags: hurt/comfort; s3 offshoot; panic attacks; crying; descriptions of anxiety; nausea mentions; Barb's death; trauma; platonic love; friendship; cuddling; explicit language

A lot of Steve and Robin's memories of the hours after Star Court are blurred by a sickly mix of adrenaline and the mysterious cocktail of drugs they'd been given earlier in the day. Outside was an overwhelming mess of flashing lights, sirens, screaming voices, car engines, and thick, acrid smoke. The two of them had sat huddled wordlessly together, wrapped loosely in firemen's blankets, eyes glazed as the chaos around them slowly petered out as the night wore on. The sun was already starting to rise when the soldiers finally cleared them to go home.

Steve stood guard outside the phone booth as Robin called her parents. His eyes scanned the parking lot, taking a mental head count of the kids, making sure each of them was collected and taken home. Steve bit his tongue, fighting the lump that was rising in his throat at the sound of Robin's choked tears as she lied down the phone to her mother.

"I'm okay, mom, I promise... No, it's fine, I'm getting a ride... Yeah... Okay, I'll see you soon. Love you."

Steve couldn't even imagine calling his mother in a moment like that, let alone telling her he loved her.

He bundled Robin into the car, buckling her seatbelt for her since her hands were shaking too much to do it herself. Almost the instant the engine started, Robin broke down, tears pouring down her face and an incoherent stream of jumbled words spilling out of her mouth. Steve leant over and grabbed onto her, pulling her head down into his chest and shushing her gently. Robin was still babbling, voice so choked by tears he could barely make out what she was saying, but he still understood.

"I know, Rob, I know." He whispered, softly stroking her hair. "But it's over now. We're going home."

Robin stopped speaking, her words replaced with painful, violent sobs. Her hands balled into tight fists around Steve's shirt as she tried desperately to pull herself closer into him. Steve could feel his heart tightening in his chest, squeezing her harder as the realisation dawned on him that he really did love her, just not in the way he had thought. It took every ounce of strength he had left in his totally exhausted body not to cry as he realised that he'd never actually had a friend before. A real friend. In that moment, he would have given anything to be able to feel Robin's pain for her. Lost for words, Steve just held his friend as tightly as he could, screwing his eyes shut to stop the tears and gently kissing the top of her head.

After a little while, Robin managed to compose herself well enough to sit up. Her face was soaked with tears, skin red, and splotchy, but she still managed a weak smile at Steve.

"Thanks." She muttered.

Steve reached over and squeezed her hand in reply.

"Oh wait!" Robin announced suddenly as Steve went to pull out of the parking lot. "You didn't call your parents."

"It's fine." Steve lied. "I'll call them later."

Robin basically didn't stop talking for the full journey. Every single thought that flew around her head made its way out of her mouth in a basically constant stream of thought. Steve was thankful for it. The idea of facing his own thoughts now terrified him, and it was nice to see Robin in a slightly brighter mood. She must have asked 100 questions that she never bothered to pause for an answer to.

"And that guy, he was one of those kids' brothers, right? And he was like possessed or something? Wait, are ghosts real? No... that was the monster too, right? Like, he was the monster? Or was the monster him? It's left up here, by the way. And the girl with the powers, has she always had those? Or is she some kind of experiment? Is she like some kind of government secret? It's right on Pinewood once you get to the intersection. Wait, is that why the army was there? Or did they make the monster? But surely if they made it then - oh wait, that's our driveway!"

Steve pulls up by the side of the road at the bottom of the Buckley driveway. Robin is unusually silent for a moment, sitting still in her seat.

"Hey, are you alright?" Steve asks softly.

"Would you... It's okay if you can't, but... would you mind coming up for a bit? I just want to feel like my room is safe and I feel like... It's dumb but if you could..."

Steve stops her by placing a hand on top of hers. She smiles at him, then bites her lip awkwardly,

"My mom will probably be waiting for me, so you'll have to to um..."

Steve has been down this road many times before. The thought of going home and rattling around that big empty house was a little too much for Steve. He sighed and let out a little laugh that put Robin at ease.

"Which window?"

Scaling the side of Robin's house flooded Steve's head with memories. He couldn't help but think about Nancy, about that night he had climbed up to her window while Tommy and Carol watched and laughed. He couldn't help but think about what he had done to her the next day. Crouched on the rooftop outside of Robin's window, he began to doubt himself. Maybe he deserved Tommy and Carol. He certainly didn't deserve Robin. It was his fault this had happened to her, if she'd never met him she could have lived the rest of her life thinking he was just some dickhead from high school. A part of him considered climbing back down, thinking maybe that she'd be better off without him in the long run. Just as his foot began to slide away from the sill, the window was thrown open.

Robin's bedroom was small and busy. Her shelves were piled high with tapes, records, and books. Every surface was adorned with little trinkets, shells, pebbles, and old photographs. Steve felt a strange sense of comfort from the place, somehow it felt more like home than his own room.

"Thanks for doing this, Steve, I just needed a friend here."

Hearing Robin call him a friend made Steve's heart drop in his chest. Looking away from her he sat on the bed, staring at the floor at smiling at her from under his blood soaked hair. Looking around the room to distract himself from the sudden well of emotion Steve scanned his eyes over the posters on Robin's walls.

"Anyway, how come I had to sneak in the window? Surely it's girls your parents should be worried about you having over."

"Steve... my parents don't exactly know-"

"How could they not?" Steve cut her off with a laugh, pointing up at a scantily clad poster of Debbie Harry directly above Robin's bed.

Robin's cheeks flashed crimson, but Steve's boldness made her laugh all the same. The sound of Robin's laughter melted the tension from the room and for the first time in days Steve felt his shoulders untense a little.

"I'll be quick." She promised, slipping into the bathroom to get a shower and change into her pyjamas.

Steve hoped she wouldn't be. He was enjoying being there. It felt safe, welcoming. That wasn't a feeling Steve was used to. He sat on the bed for a while, letting the dull ache in his bones settle as much as he could. The silence gave his brain room to think, and he didn't like that. Getting up, he took a look around Robin's bedroom, admiring the little objects that scattered her shelves and counter tops. His fingers brushed over the ears of a dusty teddy bear who sat propped up on her dressing table. For a moment Steve truly started to relax, before his stomach dropped violently at the sight of one of the photos pinned to Robin's mirror.

If it weren't for her glasses, Steve might not have even recognised her, but there she was, clear as day. Robin couldn't have been more than 10 in the picture, wide-eyed with her hands clasped tightly around the waist of a young Barbara Holland. That poor girl Nancy had brought to Steve's house all those years ago. Steve stumbles, falling back onto the bed and swallowing hard to fight the sudden wave of nausea. That was his fault, too. Nancy had always said so. Pain rushed through his back and shoulders as his body tensed again. Robin was the first person he'd even known who had ever truly liked him for who he was, the only person who had ever taken the time to really get to know him, and he'd taken everything from her. Steve's fingers dug into the mattress in a desperate attempt to ground himself as his heart began to jackhammer in his chest. Sharp, ragged sobs broke through his lips as he desperately tried to level his breathing. The sound of the bathroom door opening jolted him, making him hold his breath to keep silent.

"Do ou hink ey'll end ops to meak oo us? Or oliers ayee!" Robin's voice was barely audible through the thick foam of toothpaste in her mouth. Steve had no idea what she was saying, but the sound of her voice alone made the room stop shrinking around him. "Do you think I'll need to change my name? Or maybe they'll want us-"

Robin's voice trailed off as she reentered the bedroom and flicked on the light. This was the first time she had properly seen the damage to Steve's face, with a clear head and in good light, and the sight of him made her heart drop.

"Steve..."

"I'm okay." He said with a weak smile, spotting the concern in her face.

"No, you're not."

Steve grunted a little but protested no further as Robin dragged him into the bathroom. Under the harsh light, the swelling on his face was much more pronounced. Robin was certain that the gash under his lip needed stitches.

"Jeez, Steve, didn't the paramedics do anything for you?"

"They barely even spoke to me." He replied, wincing as Robin dabbed his wounds with iodine. "I think they just wanted all of us gone as soon as possible."

Robin furrowed her brow, taking a flannel and running it under the cold tap to gently dab the swelling around Steve's eye.

"Hold this."

Steve did as he was told, pressing the cloth to his face as Robin rifled through her drawers to find a small neon yellow plaster which she gently placed over the cut on his face. It dawned on Robin how little she really knew about Steve, how little she'd actually asked him about himself. The fact that he still hadn't phoned home rung like a bell in her mind. She felt a little guilty for not clocking it sooner.

"You can stay if you want." She said gently, taking the damp cloth from him and towelling his face dry.

Steve didn't say anything. He just nodded, trying his very best not to show how relieved he was by her offer. Robin snuck into the hallway and fetched a set of her dad's pyjamas from the clean laundry basket. Steve had a quick shower, he was so exhausted he could barely stand, but he couldn't bear to be dirty for even a second longer. He gritted his teeth until he got out, adamant not to let himself lose control again. He knew if he let go now he wouldn't be able to stop. When he came back Robin was sitting upright in the bed waiting for him. He stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, waiting to be offered a blanket for the floor.

"You can... um... you can get in the bed if you want..." She stammered.

Steve climbed in beside her, flashing her another weak smile then rolling over to face the wall.

"Well, good night I guess." Robin whispered, attempting a laugh that caught a little in her throat.

There was a pause, a harsh silence made more tense by the fact that Steve could feel that Robin was still sitting upright.

"Thanks, Steve. For staying, I mean. I feel a lot better with you here." The sheets ruffled in the silence as Robin awkwardly shifted her feet beneath the blankets. "You're my best friend, Steve."

Instantly, the dam of tears behind Steve's eyes broke. He couldn't have tried to hide it if he wanted to, his whole body was shaking with such force it was vibrating the mattress beneath them both. He pulled his knees up to his chest, clasping his arms around himself as the force of all his pent up guilt, and everything he had been through in the past few days, dropped on him like a ton weight.

"Steve!" There was an audible tremble in Robin's voice. "I'm sorry I didn't- What's wrong?"

His lungs burned, chest squeezing as though his body was about to fall in on itself. It took all the strength he had to take in enough breath to reply to her.

"I'm so sorry, Rob."

"What for?"

"For everything." Steve's voice was cracked with harsh sobs. "You deserve so much better than this, Robin, so much better."

"Steve... what are you talking about?"

"I'm an asshole! I treated you like shit at school, and I didn't even fucking remember you. And look at you know, this would have never happened to you if you hadn't been involved with me. I tried, Robin, I swear I tried to protect those kids. To protect you. But I couldn't do it."

"Hey, hey." Robin paused, just for a second, and then slid herself down the bed, wrapping her arm around Steve's trembling body and holding him tightly. "It's alright."

"It's not alright!" Robin could hear he was fighting for breath as he spoke. "No matter how hard I try, I just hurt everyone around me."

Robin pulls herself closer, tightening her grip on Steve's chest, and wriggling her free hand out from underneath her to stroke his hair.

"People change." She said. "You're not the same guy you were in high school."

She could feel a lump forming in her throat as she held her friend in her arms, listening to the pain in his voice as he sobbed relentlessly.

"I hate to say it," She continued with another attempted laugh, "but you're actually a pretty good guy. Those kids love you, and I didn't get it before, but I do now. I don't think I've ever seen anyone be that selfless, or brave. I've got to admit, I was impressed."

Steve clasped the hand that Robin had placed on his chest and squeezed it tightly in his own.

"I can't tell you how much you mean to me, Rob. It feels stupid, I barely know you..."

"It's not stupid."

"I just wish... I wish I could have stopped it, I wish I could have saved you."

"You did save me." She whispered, dragging her fingers gently through Steve's hair. "You saved all of us."

Steve felt his heart sink deeper into his stomach.

"Not all of you."

Robin stayed silent, letting Steve catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Although it was too dark to see, Steve's eyes moved across the room to where he knew that photo still hung against Robin's mirror.

"Barb-" The sudden feeling of over familiarity with the girl he'd barely said two words to made Steve baulk for a second. "Barbera. She died at my house. It was... it was my fault."

As much as it hurt, there was a slight sense of relief at finally saying that out loud. He had always insisted to Nancy that the two of them weren't to blame, but he'd never really believed that. He knew it wasn't Nancy's fault, he would never have lied to her about that, but that guilt that burned white-hot at the back of his brain was all too real for him to forgive himself any blame.

Robin had been quiet for a long time. She hadn't heard Barb's name in years, and the bluntness of Steve's outburst had caught her off guard.

"Steve... it wasn't your fault..." She says, finally.

"We just left her there, Robin. She cut her hand, and she went inside to clean herself and when she came back... me and Nance we just... we just went upstairs..." Steve doesn't describe any further. Even after all they'd been through, he still owed Nancy her privacy. "It got her, Rob. This... this monster-"

"Like the one we saw tonight?" Robin interrupts.

"No. It was smaller... more... it was almost human. But it wasn't. And it took her away, to that awful place, and we couldn't save her. I couldn't save her."

Robin's chest tightens. Steve's story confirmed what she had feared all these years, that Barb had been all alone. Robin had always worried that Barb had been afraid when she, but she had never realised quite how scared she must have been. She could never have imagined anything as terrible as the things she had seen that night. Lying there in the dark by Steve's side, Robin could almost picture Barb's face as clearly as if she had been standing by the side of the bed.

"You didn't know." She whispered. "How could you have ever known? No one could have. What happened to Barb was... awful, but... Steve, you could never have known."

For the first time since she'd taken him into her arms, Robin felt Steve's body relax. He was still crying, but his breathing had steadied out. Every now and then, he would make a sad little sniffing sound. Steve took a deep breath,

"Thank you, Robin."

Steve couldn't have described the releif he felt speaking to Robin if he'd wanted to. It felt as though he was breathing for the first time, like taking a first frantic gasp of air after being trapped underwater. It still hurt, and he still wanted to cry, but with Robin there he no longer felt that knawing, hollow feeling that had been keeping him awake at night since that visit to the Byers house. Steve let his eyes fall closed, partly out of exhaustion, and partly to brace himself for what he knew was about to come out of his mouth.

"I love you."

Robin's face flashed hot as tears spilled out onto her cheeks. She pressed her lips together, taking a breath and steadying her voice,

"I love you too."

They both fell asleep sometime after that. After the day they'd had it was hard to know if it had been seconds or hours since they'd stopped talking.

It was the middle of the day before either of them woke up. Robin's mother had left a stack of pancakes outside of Robin's door, which they shared while Robin got ready. Steve had to keep reminding her to keep her voice down. Following another sly trip to the laundry room Robin returned with a pair of her dad's jeans for Steve to wear. Rooting through her wardrobe she found an old Melanie tour shirt her uncle had given her that was just a size or two too big. It fit Steve perfectly. Robin went downstairs to speak to her mother, but insisted Steve wait in the car and that she'd be out soon. She was at least 40 minutes, but Steve had been more than happy to wait.

That day Steve drove them out to a field just outside of town. They lay in the grass under a tree and Robin revealed she had made them sandwiches and brought a flask full of lemonade. The pair of them lazed around in the grass, talking and laughing as if they were just two old friends that hadn't seen each other in a while. Neither of them spoke about the night before, but they both remembered, and it made the day feel fresh like the morning after a thunderstorm. Robin talked at length about all her favourite films. Long, complicated foreign movies that Steve had never even heard of. Steve lay beside her, smiling and listening, the sun warming his legs as it slowly dipped over the horizon. He asked her if she'd ever seen Animal House, she had not. Steve made a note that they would have to watch it together sometime.

When Steve dropped Robin back at home, she scribbled her phone number on a post-it note from her rucksack, and Steve made fun of her for being enough of a nerd to take post-it notes on a picnic. When he finally got home that night, he called out to see if his parents had come back from their trip yet. He wasn't surprised to find they hadn't. Remembering Robin's note he took it from his pocket and stuck it down beside the phone in the hallway and, for the first time in years, that big, empty house didn't feel quite so lonely.

#idrk where this came from #i just started thinking about them #and how i need steve to get a chance to FEEL #anyway felt soft lol #stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things fan ficton #hurt/comfort

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inkskinned · 2 years

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there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

#this is objectively bad advice #don't listen to it protect yourself and do real work on yourself find one of the good posts i've made about this #but also. u know. if u want to have fun while u do the work of setting boundaries #.... it IS fun #i will say that my fear of him went SO down after i just started. fucking with him.#bc i used to get SO fucking upset #i'd spend WEEKS arguing with him. tearing my hair out. sick with anxiety and dread and anger about all of it #and now i just LITERALLY do not engage #instead i'm like '' haha :) mole people" and get the HELL out of any tense conversation #i kind of think some of these people are literally addicted to drama as a form of connection #they like the rush they get from arguing #but those arguments are incredibly damaging for me #so like..... i am in the process of literally rehabilitating this person to figure out how to find connection thru #NORMAL CONVERSATION #he doesn't get it yet #i also do talk to them like they're preschool kids lmafo . ''are you using a safe and kind voice right now?''#'' do you need a snackie? you sound a little upset. let's have some hummus and come back to playtime when we feel ready''

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