Author's Note: My first Stranger Things fanfic since school started! This is a Steve centric sickfic taking place around when Dustin tells Steve about the Russians. I specifically love the friendly bantering between him and Robin. I'm also starting a special fic in a week or so, so be on the lookout! Quick Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN STRANGER THINGS! Now, without further ado, Chapter 1!

Chapter 1: The Summer Sniffles

Saturday, June 22, 1985

Scoops Ahoy

It all started at Starcourt…

Summer flu was going around, and it was just Steve's luck to catch it on a Saturday. It was the one day that neither he nor Robin could swap shifts, plus, the 14 year olds he's grown quite fond of always come on Saturdays to get ice cream and sneak into the movies.

He missed Dustin. He could tell the kid actually wanted to spend time with him, not just use him for free ice cream and secret hallways to the cinema. Unfortunately, he was at Camp…Know Where? Steve couldn't remember. He had no idea when he'd be back.

Steve knew he was in for it when he woke up that morning. He was congested, his throat was on fire, and his head was pounding to the beat of his heart. "You've got to be kidding me," he groaned. Whatever. He needed the money, and if Dustin came back, he'd go to Starcourt. He decided to muster up whatever energy he had left and got ready for work. Honestly, he would give himself extra "You Suck" points just for how flat his hair was today.

He just tries to make himself look somewhat human, and then he set off. He knew Robin was definitely gonna rag on him all day as he hit on every female customer looking like a zombie, but he decided to just put up with it today. He didn't have the will to care.

"What the hell happened to you?" Robin snickered. Steve just rolled his eyes and walked into the supply base. He and Robin have been getting to work earlier so they can have a few minutes to hang out before customers start pouring in.

"Hey, seriously. Are you ok? You don't look too good," Robin said with a sudden gentleness in her voice. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. Don't worry, you still have a ride home." Robin winced at the sound of his voice. It was rough and worn, it also sounded painful. Like he drowned in cheese graters. "That's not what I'm worried about."

Steve was about to question what she meant when the bell started dinging. Time for work Steve thought. "We're not done talking," Robin said, stopping him with her hand. The dinging intensified. "Well I am." Steve started toward the door to meet the customers. Robin sighed. That dingus could be so darn stubborn! It's fine though. Only 8 hours and they could leave. Maybe she could trick Steve into taking her to his house. Hmm. Oh well. Dingus won't last a minute out there, Robin thought. All she could do was hope her friend was okay.

"Hey! Dingus! I'll handle them. I think the fridge needs reorganizing." Robin pointed to the freezer containing the ice cream. "Fine by me. See you in a few," Steve replied as he waved her off.

Who knew how long 8 hours were? Robin kept glancing at the clock, feeling like she was slowly dying with anticipation. Steve multiple times tried to take over for her, even though he still looked and sounded like death, so she continued to handle the customers.

Steve felt like he was waiting for a million years in that supply base. He felt hot when he knew the supply base could reach temperatures down to -6°, especially on hot days, his sinuses were congested, and his throat was on fire. He decided to wrap up some ice cubes in a dish cloth and rest it on his forehead. He probably had a fever, but whatever.

Robin eventually walked into the supply base and saw the miserable-looking teenager. "How you holding up?" she asked. "I'm fine. Just have a headache," Steve replied. "Need me to take over?" he asked.

"No. When are you going to admit it dingus?! You're sick. You should be at home in bed, not at work!"

"Robin, I'm fine."

"It's hard for me to believe you when you are the definition of the walking dead."

"Robin, for the millionth time, I'm fi-" Steve was cut off by a harsh coughing fit. "Whoa! Easy Steve! Just breathe. In. Out. Just like me, ok? In, and out." After his coughing fit subsided, Steve looked at her with defeat. "All right, you win. But I already clocked in. I can't just leave."

Robin was about to retort, but he was right. Once you clock in, you have to stay until your shift is over. "For once, you're right. Just stay in here till our shift is over and don't try to help. Try to sleep it off back here." Robin patted his shoulder and walked back out.

If only Dustin were here, Steve thought. And as if on cue, he heard a familiar voice from outside the supply base.

"Is he here?"