#plot twist he hangs up and there’s russians all around oops

[wheatnoodle]

steve calls everyone to check up on them at 8:00 every night. like clockwork, the phones will ring and one by one, each kiddo confirms their safety. it puts his mind at ease, at least just a little bit.

robin only calls steve. never at a specific time, but always way too late in the night to be something she planned. 2:34, 1:17, 3:55, 4:11.

“steve? steve, please tell me you’re there.”

“i’m here, robbie.”

she’s huffing and puffing like she ran a marathon in her sleep.

“they don’t- they’re not- your face?”

“nobody’s here but me. no russians. no injuries.” he tries to keep his voice even, steady, let her know he means it.

“promise you’ll call if they come? i’ll- i’ll get you out this time, i swear, i- i’ll do more. promise?”

and steve shuts his eyes, holding back a sad sigh as he pictures her in that bunker, where her brain currently is, screaming out for him, begging them to leave him alone, to stop hurting him.

“i promise. but there’s nothing to worry about. i’m okay, you’re okay. there’s no russians.”

“i should have saved you-“

“you did save me, robbie.”

“i could have- i should have done more.”

“you did enough.”

and her breathing stutters before it finally slows down, her lungs settling on an even pace. he can lay back now.

“i’m gonna…gonna go to sleep again.”

“good. you do that. i’m a call away.”

“a call away…okay…yeah…okay. i love you.”

“i love you too, robin.”

“okay…g’night.”

“goodnight, robbie.”