Robin was happy. She was happy, she was surrounded by children, children that reminded her of home, and was finally back in Hawkins. She was happy.
So it didn't matter that her head was pounding, hundreds of thoughts and feelings pouring into her, more than she had ever experienced before, didn't it? But they were so loud, so painful, and she didn't know what to do. This wasn't just the thoughts of a crowd, they were deafening, directed Steve, focused on her, and she couldn't handle it. They weren't the underlying thoughts that everyone had, they were so strong, at the forefront of everyone's mind, like a jackhammer in her skull.
She couldn't stop hearing them. She couldn't escape it.
I was right! I was right! They came back, they finally came back!
We have to make sure that they get some food in them, who knows how long they have been driving?
How am I supposed to tell Steve that I'm happy he's back? I don't want to be weird, but he's like my brother. I can't…I don't want to lose him again. I can't lose anyone else.
Is she okay? We have to call her parents, they need to know that she's home. Does she want them to, though? Does she even have a good relationship with them? How in the world do I not know that? Robin's in the same grade as I am!
I need to talk to him. I need to make things right.
She tried to hide a wince as more feelings flooded her mind, feeling of happiness, worry, guilt, pure joy, and so, so much more.
She couldn't handle this anymore. She couldn't. Her chest tightened, tears burning in her eyes, and her hands itched to reach for her ears, to cover them, even though Robin knew that it wouldn't help.
Robin turned away as the group headed into the house, hand up to her nose, where she could feel hot blood dribbling down. She tried to breath through the pain, the overwhelming voices in her head, and get it together. She wasn't about to ruin this reunion with her powers, with her inability to take care of herself.
But, it wasn't long until she felt a soft but strong hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Steve. He gave her a gentle and understanding smile, handing her a tissue from his pocket discreetly, and then turned back to talk to Dustin, who was basically glued to his hip.
He watched her worriedly as they walked up the stairs, gesturing to his ear, and then his chest. She shook her head, confused, and he opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by the small person at his side.
"Steve? Steve, are you listening to me?" Dustin asked, clearly annoyed that Steve wasn't paying attention, and Steve chuckled, messing up the kid's hair affectionately.
"Of course I am. My question is, are you listening to me?"
"You're not even talking to me!"
Robin's breath hitched, realizing that the question wasn't meant for Dustin it was meant for her.
Are you listening to me?
It didn't make sense. She couldn't hear him, how would listening for him, for his voice among the chaos, even help?
Listen for me. He mouthed to her before stepping into the door, and her eyes widened, finally realizing what he had to have meant. She had to listen to his silence. Listen for the voice that she couldn't hear, listen for the gap that he made because he was the only one she couldn't read.
She took a deep breath, painting on a smile as she wiped her nose again, all the while searching for the gap, searching for the silence that Steve gave her, a silence that had scared her before but didn't anymore.
It took a lot of searching, but she could soon feel it, that void of emotion and noise, and she focused on it, letting all of the raging voices fade into the background. The relief she felt made her smile, and she gave Steve a smile in thanks, one that he returned.
He always said how she knew how to help him, but she didn't really know how much he helped her until now. He was the only one that she trusted to help her, though she knew that it was likely to change, it had been changing. Before, she had Tom, but now they were home now, surrounded by other forms of support and love.
Joyce rushed to get Steve and Robin sitting on the couch, muttering something about making sure that they got enough rest, and Dustin flopped down beside Steve, clearly still happy, but anyone could tell that he wanted to know what happened.
"Are you two hungry? We have some leftovers in the fridge if you want." Joyce said, rushing into the kitchen, Jonathan close on her heels.
Robin could immediately see Steve rush to protest, but it had been hours since he had eaten, so she stepped in.
"Anything would be great, thank you, Mrs. Byers."
"Oh, Robin, call me Joyce. You too, Steve."
Steve chuckled. "I can't make any promises."
"Oh, you shush! Will, could you get some paper plates from the cupboard? All of our dishes are dirty."
Will, the silent, small one with the bowl cut, well, at least from what Robin could remember, nodded, getting to his feet from where he sat on the floor and listened to his mom. Chief Hopper was lowering a young girl onto the couch, she assumed that it was El, and the rest of the group all huddled around them, talking quietly amongst themselves. The only people who weren't really close were Will, Joyce, and Jonathan, who were busy in the kitchen, and Nancy, who stood to the side awkwardly.
Robin could feel confusion and curiosity fill the room, but she pushed it away, instead focusing on Steve's silence. She didn't want to get overwhelmed again, especially after such a short amount of time.
"So, what happened? Where were you? Was it the Russians?" Dustin asked, and it was as if a bomb was dropped, all of the conversations and actions shuddering to a stop.
"Dustin…" Hopper warned, but all the kid did was shrug.
"What? We all want to know, don't we? It's been over half a year! Everyone but us thought that they were dead! We even had a funeral for Robin!"
Shock filled her as she heard the words, though she was sure that it was her own. A funeral. They had a funeral for her. Somewhere in Hawkins there was a gravestone with her name on it, and her parents…
They thought she was dead. They were grieving. She was basically dead to them.
Robin honestly should've expected it, but she never even thought about it. Maybe it was the stress of defeating Papa, making sure their loved ones were safe, or maybe even just needing to survive, that made her forget about that, but it hurt. It made her feel feelings she couldn't describe, like a stone was thrown on top of her, squeezing her stomach and gut, crushing her under its pressure.
"A…a funeral?" Her voice was soft and broken, and she could feel her strength beginning to crumble.
A strong arm pulled her into a familiar chest, and she turned her face into it, a sob escaping her throat. She could hear voices of displeasure and anger flood the room, but she didn't respond to them, only drinking in the comfort that Steve offered her.
"Not cool, Dustin, not cool!"
"Dude, really? They haven't been home for ten minutes and you lay that on her? Give her a break!"
"I had to ask, and she was going to find out anyway!"
She could feel Steve shift from under her, and she began crying, tears falling down her cheeks and onto Steve's clothes.
She shouldn't be crying, they should be celebrating. She didn't really feel like celebrating, though, not when her parents were grieving her.
"It's okay, Rob." Steve said softly. "It's okay, let it out. We'll fix this, okay? We'll fix it."
She nodded against his chest, knowing that his words were true, yet being unable to truly believe them.
"Hey, Henderson?" Steve said after a few moments, all of which were filled with harsh conversation, conversation that seemed to have changed Dustin's mind, and the younger boy turned to look at him with wide eyes.
"Steve, Iー"
"No, wait. I get it. I get why you want to know, and it has been a while. But not right now, okay? I don't think I'm ready for that yet, and Robin's probably not going to be much help until she gets some food in her."
She let out a small, watery laugh, her tears finally falling out of her eyes less and less. "You Dingus."
"It's true, though. When you're hungry you either crash or get really angry."
"Crash?" El asked, and Hopper smiled fondly.
"Runs out of energy. Get tired. That'll be the word of the day, okay?"
El nodded, and Robin chose that moment to lift her head from Steve's chest, whipping away her stray tears. She still had a tight feeling in her gut, especially at the thought of her parents, but she didn't want to cry anymore. Today wasn't meant for crying.
Hopper caught her eye, and his fatherly gaze was so foreign to her, yet so comforting. "We'll get everything sorted out, Robin, I promise."
She smiled. "Thank you, Chief."
"Call me Hopper."
Joyce then came into the living room once again, carrying two plates, each with a burger and salad on it. Robin took it thankfully and dove right in, thankful for the food. Steve was right, she was hungry, and she knew that he was too, even if he didn't feel it. She just hoped that he would eat it.
One side glance told her that he was eating, and she considered it a crisis averted.
"Now, Robin? I know you worked at the ice cream shop in the mall, so you would have seen all of the kids, but do you need a refresher for their names?" Joyce asked, and Robin quickly swallowed the bite she had taken.
"I think I know most of them, I'm assuming the girl with the fancy brown hair is El?"
El nodded. "Hi."
"Hi, I love your hair."
The younger girl smiled sheepishly. "Thanks. Pretty?"
"Yes. Very pretty."
Steve smiled between forkfuls of salad. "I agree with Robin, your hair is nice. Did you grow it out?"
El shrugged, shy under the attention. "A bit."
Dustin scoffed. "All you're worried about is her hair? Really?"
"Shush. You're not the one that's been away for so long. I want to catch up with you guys. And, I'm Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, hair is sort of my thing." Steve said with an easy smile, and Dustin rolled his eyes.
"Alright, it's your call."
Erica sat beside Robin and put down a cup of water for her, swinging her feet as she took a drink for her juice box.
"I found a way to force Lucas to clean my room."
"Erica! Really?" Lucas exclaimed, and she shrugged.
"What? It's true, and if they want an update, they'll get an update."
"I don't think that's the update they really need to hear." Dustin muttered, and Steve cast him a confused glance. But Robin saw it. The monster. Billy's death. Starcourt burning down. Dustin waiting anxiously by a big machine, begging Steve and Robin to come home. El's injury, Max's heavy grief, everyone relentless searching, the funeral.
It was a lot to take in, but with a deep breath, she pushed it away. Not now. Later, but not now.
Steve didn't know what she saw, he had no way of knowing, but he held her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, as if he sensed her distress.
And, one by one, everyone went around the room and told stories about what they had done over the time that they were gone, everyone dancing around the hard topics that Robin had read from Dustin. She wasn't sure if it was planned, or deliberate, but she knew that it was for the best. Steve would freak out when he heard, and she had tons of questions. She knew about the monsters Steve had faced, but this one was a new one, and she was a bit confused.
She didn't read it from anyone, though. She was already exhausted from using her powers so much, even if it wasn't on purpose. She wasn't sure how much she could handle.
It didn't take long for the sun to set, and parents were called, Joyce and Hopper deciding that everyone was sleeping over for the night. It didn't take long for rooms and sleeping bags to be set up. Robin and Steve resorted to sleeping on the floor, despite everyone's protests, and Dustin somehow found his way beside Steve, Erica beside Robin.
Robin wondered, as the lights around the house were turned off and goodnights were said, if Steve would get any sleep. Would his body allow himself to get some rest, or would it force him to stay awake?
"Steve?" She whispered, knowing that nearly everyone would hear her. "Are you tired?"
"Yeah. I'll be out pretty quick."
She hummed, letting her eyes close, feeling comfort at the reassurance. She nuzzled into the pillow, and let sleep come over her, letting her mind's thoughts, and the thoughts of everyone around her, fall silent.
It was a nice peace, a peace that she would love every second of.
Hopper couldn't really sleep, which confused him. Everyone was home safe, everything was going to be fine, yet rest just wouldn't come.
As he walked into the kitchen, casting a quick glance to the kids, all of whom were sleeping, he noticed that the ceiling light was already on. No wonder why he could see the kids so clearly.
Joyce was sitting at the table, coffee mug in hand, and she looked up when she saw Hopper walk in.
"Couldn't sleep?" She whispered, and Hopper nodded. "Me neither."
He sighed, sitting down and running his hand through his hair. "I don't know why I can't, they're home. Nothing to be worried about, right?"
Joyce looked back to the living room. "I don't know. We still don't really know what happened, and if they're really okay. You can tell that something's still wrong. Steve was being so much quieter than usual, and poor Robin seemed to be having such a hard time."
"I know. I wish Dustin wouldn't have mentioned the funeral."
"You know that he was just excited and desperate. And, I'm sure that Robin understands."
"I guess so. Hopefully."
"Coffee?" Joyce gently questioned, and Hopper scoffed quietly, not wanting to wake up any of them.
"Do you even have to ask?"
She gave him a small smile, getting up to prepare the coffee as quietly as she could.
"I just hope that they're actually safe. I hope that them being home means that it's all over." She said.
"You know it won't be, though." Hopper replied. "No matter what happens, they'll likely have trauma. PTSD, possibly. And I'm gonna make sure that they're not alone."
"That makes two of us."
Hopper couldn't stand sitting down as he waited, so he got up, walking over to the kids and watching as they slept. Which, in any other circumstance, was creepy, but he just needed to make sure that they were all okay, especially Steve and Robin. It was a motherly instinct, an instinct that had developed years and years ago.
As his eyes followed the mess of arms and legs and bodies the floor had become, he smiled as he saw Dustin resting his head on Steve's arm, like a pillow. Steve was definitely going to feel that in the morning.
But, as he looked closer, there seemed to be some dirt on Steve's wrist, dirt that must've been covered by his sleeve but uncovered in his sleep. Hopper took a step forward, inspecting the dirt even further. It seemed to make a pattern, a writing of some sort.
Then he saw it. In the dim light from the kitchen, he could make out the number 019.
019 A number branded on Steve's skin, in a style that was all too familiar.
Hopper barely made it to the garbage can in time to puke up everything in his stomach, horror and dread making everything blurry. The number burned itself in his mind, refusing to go away no matter how long he retched.
No. No. That isn't what happened. It couldn't have been, Brenner couldn't have…he wasn't even alive…
But he knew. Deep down he knew what happened. It was Brenner. It had to be. He didn't even have to check Robin's wrist, he knew that that man had taken the both of them, and did who knows what to them.
He had promised El that he wouldn't let Brenner hurt anyone else. But he failed. He failed her. He failed them. And he wasn't sure that he could ever forgive himself for it. All he knew was that this was bad. This was so terribly bad.