Chapter Text
"Back, hurry back.
Please, bring it back home to me
Because you don't know
What it means to me."
- Love of My Life, Queen
"But touch my tears with your lips.
Touch my world with your fingertips
And we can have forever.
And we can love forever."
- Who Wants to Live Forever, Queen
The arrival of June sends a wave of energy throughout the town of Hawkins, the people vibrating like cicadas lying dormant for seventeen years, ready to make their presence known. The start of summer break marks the ending and the start of an era for many as the seniors of Hawkins High School grace the stage and snatch their diplomas. For a select few, it means another month since Vecna perished in a blaze of Molotov cocktails and shotgun shells, the looming presence of multiple gates threatening to swallow the town whole closed by El's tactile fingers. Hawkins was safe, its imminent demise delayed another day.
For Steve and Robin, this marked a new beginning as well: the search for a new job.
With the end of the school year came the influx of college students visiting for the summer, and Steve and Robin, being at the bottom of the totem pole, got their hours cut at Family Video. This led to an hour of yelling, spitting, and swearing on Robin's behalf, Steve having to hold her around the waist like a frothing Rottweiler while Keith sat in his office chair looking bored.
"Sorry, Buckley. That's the way it is. College babes are in, and the dynamic duo is out," he says, fingers splayed at their general presence. "You're good. I'll give you that," he says, fingers continuing to toy with a pencil he's had in hand since Robin barged into his office with a distressed Steve following shortly behind. "But hot college students back for the summer means more eye candy at the counters, and that means business will be booming. I've got to compete with the public pool somehow."
Robin was seething at this point. She points to Steve. "Oh yeah? What about him, huh? Is he not your shop's eye candy? Is he not-," Robin cut herself off, looking close to throwing up, "- hot?"
Steve tried not to be offended by her argument, knowing she was just heated at the moment. She continues. "Keith, look at this hair. We had a deal!" Keith raises an eyebrow at this, skepticism written across his features. He leans forward on his elbows as he stares her down.
"You're right. We did have a deal. One that he," Keith says, pointing over her shoulder at Steve, "has not been fulfilling. Babes all day? So many that I'll need to beat them off with a stick? Isn't that what you promised?” Keith scoffs in the pair's faces. “Well, that's not what he's providing." Robin grew a shade of red that rivaled her beat-up Converse and Steve generally felt lost in translation. Keith flops back in his chair, finally dropping the pencil in favor of picking up a bag of chips. "Come back when school starts up again," he says with his mouth spewing crumbs, waving them off with orange-dusted fingertips.
Steve had to bodily drag Robin out of the store before she attempted to bite the man, potentially ruining their chances of working at any of Keith's stores ever again.
This was how Steve and Robin wound up at a diner at two pm on a Wednesday, sharing a plate of fries and drinking milkshakes when they would otherwise be working the counters of Family Video. Robin has her forehead on the sticky surface of the table, hands tugging on her bangs. Meanwhile, Steve has a newspaper draped open to the section dedicated to job listings, looking for anything in their wheelhouse. The front pages stick to the surface as Steve moves the print towards Robin, a finger circling an ad. "How about a lifeguard at the public pool? Seems easy enough to wrangle kids. We do that for free, anyways."
"Are you kidding me right now?" comes her muffled response, still not lifting her head. "You know I have the coordination of a baby deer. It's like you want me to slip on the wet pavement and crack my head open," she says. She lifts her face to take a drink of her strawberry milkshake, forehead red and dented from the edge of the table. Her hands are still worrying the ends of her hair. "We could just start a babysitting service. Get paid for what we already know. Plus, with your hair and my brains, we can gain a great clientele."
Steve snorts before grabbing a red pen, crossing out "lifeguard." The paper is starting to look more like an intense game of bingo with all its red x's. "Do you realize how many babysitting ads are on this page alone? I don't think it’ll happen." Robin groans in response, stuffing a fry between her pursed lips before taking another sip.
Steve gets it. Robin graduated less than a week ago. Graduation is an ostensible event that society presents as being the end of the road, a momentous achievement for high school students. What they don't tell you is that waiting beyond graduation is a steep decline into reality. Just a couple of days ago, Robin was telling him about the pressure from her parents to move out before the next school year began and she started her general courses at the local community college. Her plans of working as many hours as possible to save up over the summer were savagely dashed with a call from Keith; Steve was on the receiving end of her wrath this morning, rolling over groggy to answer the phone only to be met with cussing and the girl demanding to be picked up immediately.
"Maybe we can make a few bucks by participating in experimental research studies," she said, sighing and rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, because experimental studies ended so well for someone we know," he replied, eyes trailing over an ad for grocery store cashiers and baggers. Jesus, they've sunk low.
His head lifts at the sound of the bell above the diner's door ringing. Robin's hands have made their way to the back of her head, spiking her bob in all directions, her shoulders slumping over her shake. Thus, he has a clear sight of the door when Vickie enters the diner, the ribbon on her sun hat fluttering as she scans the restaurant. Her eyes meet Steve's before she’s glancing at Robin's hunched figure across from him. She smiles at him and wanders over to their table.
"Hey, Steve," she greets, turning towards Robin with red-tinged cheeks. "Hi, Robin." Robin goes from zero to one hundred in a second, sitting up and running her sweaty palms over her unruly strands, willing them to sit.
Steve waves lightly as Robin melts under the girl's gaze, fumbling to look composed. "Vickie! Hey! What are you doing here?" Robin stumbles over her words, looking like a deer in the headlights. Steve chuckles as he notices some newspaper ink transferred onto her right cheek, advertising twenty percent off at the army supply store.
"I'm just meeting up with some friends for lunch," she says, eyes roaming over the room until she finds her table. She turns back to Robin, and Steve witnesses the moment Vickie's eyes catch on her cheek. She grins before scratching her pointer finger over her own cheek. "You got a little something here," she says, giggling as Robin scrambles to grab at the shiny surface of the napkin dispenser on their table. Vickie diverts her attention to the table while Robin furiously scrubs her cheek with a spit-covered thumbnail. She takes in their setup of red pens and newspapers before looking over to Steve. "What's all this?"
Watching as Robin pulls out multiple napkins and wets them in a glass of water to her left, Steve attempts to keep Vickie's attention on himself before Robin blows a fuse from embarrassment. "Job hunting. Unfortunately, we can't seem to keep up with the college kids back for the summer, despite our dashing good looks," he jokes.
Vickie's eyebrows furrow as she frowns. "That's awful. I'm sorry to hear that," she says. She mumbles something under her breath that Steve barely catches, something along the lines of, "that's why I didn't see her earlier." She glances over at Robin who is brushing napkin crumbs off of her now damp, ruddy cheek. "Have you guys had any luck?"
Robin deflates at the question, saying, "nothing we both can agree upon at the moment. Apparently, clinical trials are off the table." She gives the newspaper at her elbow a glance, reading over the description of the experimental study. "Who knows? Maybe this Prozac could totally change our lives," she jokes.
Steve shakes his head, picking up his newspaper and pen once more, determined to give the girls a moment.
Vickie smirks at Robin's comment, then something comes across her face. She perks up and her eyes twinkle as she says, "hey! I'm going to be a camp counselor this summer over at Camp Hideaway. You know, the one overlooking Lover's Lake? They're still looking for people to hire this season. Maybe I can put in a good word for you both?" Vickie looks hopefully over at Robin, chewing on her bottom lips as she waits for a response.
Robin looks stunned at the prospects of working with Vickie for a whole summer, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Steve had listened to Robin rant for hours over their last shift at Family Video, concerned that she'd "never get the opportunity to see Vickie again" now that she graduated, as she put it. Steve, being the best wingman, answers, "that would be amazing, Vickie! Doesn't that sound like fun Robin?"
Their shared gaze directed at Robin broke the girl out of her stupefied state. "Oh. Vickie, that would be incredible! Oh my god, you don't even know how much that means to me." She quickly corrects herself, blushing. "To us."
"Great! I'll talk to my supervisor tomorrow. I know a lot of the kids from the local middle and high schools are attending this year. Pretty sure I've seen you guys hang out with a few of them before," she says. She grows flustered but continues. "I mean it's just something I happened to notice. They come into Family Video a lot. Anyways, let me give you my number so we can talk more about the details later?" She looks at Robin with a hopeful and nervous glance. Robin nods, snatching the pen out of Steve's grasp.
His protests fall on deaf ears as Robin hands it to Vickie, their fingers brushing faintly. They both look as red as the ink by the time Vickie writes her number in the margins of the newspaper. "Well, I have to go. It was nice running into you guys," she says, glancing over at Steve with a warm smile. She turns back to Robin. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Vickie says, eyes trailing down Robin's features. If Steve is the only one that catches Vickie's eyes lingering over Robin's lips for a second too long, that's their business and their business alone. Robin nods enthusiastically, waving the girl goodbye.
They sit in silence as Vickie walks across the room to her friends, the diner's volume raising as they greet one another. Steve waves down their waitress for their check, having finished the last of the fries and his chocolate milkshake. Robin would normally protest at not getting the last fry, but she was preoccupied with other matters. Robin's eyes continue to linger on Vickie for a moment longer as the girl keeps a respectable distance from the guy she sits next to. Vickie glances over at Robin, and when their eyes meet they both look away as if they had been burned.
Steve looks at the exchange with mirth, happy for his smitten best friend. The storm cloud that had been lingering over their table had dissipated, their spirits raised at the prospects of a fun summer gig. Robin tuts at the empty plate of fries, glaring daggers at Steve as he begins paying the bill. She finishes her milkshake and scoops out the cherry at the bottom of the glass, popping it into her mouth as Steve begins gathering the papers and the pens. Steve doesn't say anything as he catches Vickie watching Robin chew absent-mindedly. They rise and wave at Vickie on their way out, calling out their thanks to the diner staff before walking out the door.
The muggy air of the afternoon hits their chilled skin, making them shiver. Goosebumps rise over Steve's arms as they walk to his car, Steve reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. He unlocks his door, setting their papers on the dashboard before reaching over the center console to open the door for Robin. They roll down their windows to allow hot air to escape the confines of the Beemer. They buckle up before Steve starts to back out of the parking lot, set on driving anywhere the road takes them.
Robin adjusts the radio as they cruise through town, satisfied when the radio lands on a new song by Queen. They allow Freddie Mercury's soaring vocals and humid air to wash over them as Steve approaches a red stop light. Steve taps his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to the song as Robin reaches over to pick up the newspaper promoting extensive amounts of research studies. Her eyes widen and she squawks, causing Steve's eyes to drop from the light to Robin's equally scarlet face.
She shoves the paper in Steve's face and points adamantly near the section advertising Prozac, causing him to recoil to avoid it being shoved in his open mouth. The smell of newsprint and french fry grease is heavy under his nose as he takes the paper from her insistent hands, peering down to where black ink meets red.
The Prozac study that Robin had circled on a whim had been neatly crossed out by Vickie. With an arrow pointing to it, she wrote in the margin trailing down the side in loopy writing, "No need for questionable studies. I'll help your worries go away. -Vickie." Her signature was punctuated with a faint heart, as though she had drawn it with hesitation. The faint heart has been drawn over with a heavily indented smiley face. Below her message was a neatly scrawled phone number. A smile tugged at Steve's lips, glancing between Robin and the paper with a raised eyebrow. He couldn't deny that he was pretty impressed with the girl, wondering how Vickie wrote all of that without them noticing.
A car behind them honked, causing the duo to jump. The light had turned green and Steve began to inch forward, waving off the driver behind them. He passed the newspaper back to Robin's waiting hands as they picked up speed. At this point in the song, the entirety of Queen has joined in, snapping and echoing Freddie's singing. Robin continued to stare down at the message in awe, running her fingers over the dried ink as though she was afraid she would smudge it.
As the song came to an end with echoes of "it's a kind of magic," Steve couldn't help but agree that there was definitely something magical about Vickie.