hey_dingus (
hey_dingus) wrote2019-08-03 08:39 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
Sleepwalking into the open palm of the empty sky [August 4]
"Are you okay?"
Is she okay? In the last twenty-four hours, she's hurtled who knows how far down underground to a Russian base beneath the mall, been drugged out of her mind, watched Alex P. Keaton try to bang his mom, spilled her literal and metaphorical guts, and watched a middle-schooler throw a car with her mind. And now they've just crashed the stolen Toddfather into another car on purpose and she's wondering if this is blunt force trauma because how is any of this real?
No. She is not okay. She's pretty sure this is going to fuck her up for life and the weirdest part is that Steve only barely seems fazed by mini-Carrie.
"Ask me tomorrow," she stumbles out, proud to at least sound kind of quippy about it given the circumstances.
It lasts approximately half a second before she's thrown for yet another loop by the sound of shattering glass as some kind of...something leaps up onto the ceiling. It's huge and toothy and has way too many legs and Robin thinks she's got to be hallucinating. "Oh shit!"
Scrambling to unfasten her seatbelt, Robin leaps gracelessly from the car. In the corner of her eye, she sees a station wagon pulling up and starts to run toward it–and nearly straight into a glass door.
It's suddenly bright and Robin's eyes go wide as she glances around, trying to process. It's daylight. The cars are gone. Through the glass door she almost smacked into, she can see the courtyard of a mall but it's definitely not Starcourt.
"Holy shit," she says again. "I'm in Hell."
Is she okay? In the last twenty-four hours, she's hurtled who knows how far down underground to a Russian base beneath the mall, been drugged out of her mind, watched Alex P. Keaton try to bang his mom, spilled her literal and metaphorical guts, and watched a middle-schooler throw a car with her mind. And now they've just crashed the stolen Toddfather into another car on purpose and she's wondering if this is blunt force trauma because how is any of this real?
No. She is not okay. She's pretty sure this is going to fuck her up for life and the weirdest part is that Steve only barely seems fazed by mini-Carrie.
"Ask me tomorrow," she stumbles out, proud to at least sound kind of quippy about it given the circumstances.
It lasts approximately half a second before she's thrown for yet another loop by the sound of shattering glass as some kind of...something leaps up onto the ceiling. It's huge and toothy and has way too many legs and Robin thinks she's got to be hallucinating. "Oh shit!"
Scrambling to unfasten her seatbelt, Robin leaps gracelessly from the car. In the corner of her eye, she sees a station wagon pulling up and starts to run toward it–and nearly straight into a glass door.
It's suddenly bright and Robin's eyes go wide as she glances around, trying to process. It's daylight. The cars are gone. Through the glass door she almost smacked into, she can see the courtyard of a mall but it's definitely not Starcourt.
"Holy shit," she says again. "I'm in Hell."
no subject
He even gets an ice cream cone, maybe for old time's sake, but it just makes him a little sad. Still, he spent four dollars on the thing-- yeah, four dollars for a fucking scoop of ice cream-- so he's going to damn well eat it.
When he hears Robin's voice, he assumes that he has to be imagining it. Maybe it's just being at the mall, or missing her, missing everybody. But before he can do so much as smile fondly, he turns to see Robin actually standing there, stupid Scoops Ahoy outfit and all.
"Holy shit," Steve echoes, clutching his ice cream cone as he gapes at her like an idiot. "Robin? Robin!"
no subject
"Did that thing get us? Am I hallucinating? Or dead?"
Not only is it daylight, the mall she's in front of ("High Street?") looks completely undamaged. No Mind Flayer meat puppet in sight. Which is somehow not actually that comforting.
no subject
"How long have you been in those clothes?" Steve asks, but then he remembers that time is weird here. Just because Steve has been here for a month doesn't mean that Robin is coming from a month after where he came from. Or-- ugh, this place is so confusing. "Never mind. Are you still high?"
He steps in front of her and puts a hand on her shoulder, moving in close enough that she can see the still healing mark on his chin from the worst of his injuries. "Let me see your pupils."
no subject
"How the hell is your face fixed? We were in the car–which you had just crashed into Billy Hargrove. Jesus, Steve, I knew he was an asshole but wow." Even she knows she's not completely comprehensible at the moment but in her defense a lot has happened.
"A-And there was a thing. A Mind Flayer? On the roof. There was a goddamn Mind Flayer. I don't even actually know what that is but it was busting through the roof of the Starcourt Mall."
no subject
"The Mind Flayer is back?" He asks, sounding vaguely panicked before he finally shakes his head and tries to cut her off. "Robin. Robin! I don't remember anything after the movie theater. I've been here for a month, man. I-- we're in a weird place."
no subject
"It hasn't been a month since the movie theater," she adds lamely.
no subject
Steve was probably an idiot to think that he could put all of that shit behind him. He barely slept for weeks after it was closed the first time, spent months looking over his shoulder, and he had finally moved past it all. Or so he thought.
“Uh, Yeah. We’re not in Hawkins anymore, Dorothy,” Steve tells her. “It’s sort of a long story. Do you— maybe we should get you some real clothes while we’re here.”
no subject
"Okay. So it's maybe a gate thing. Which means it's maybe a dimensions thing? Did you leave and then come back? Is this like Alex P. Keaton?" She only kind of remembers the plot of the movie. At all. "But with Russians..."
no subject
"Last thing I remember was us in the movie theater. We came out and I was looking at the ceiling of the mall, and then I was here," he tells her. "I've been here for about a month. But judging by--" he moves his hand up in down in front of her to indicate her dirty clothes and red eyes. "All of this, you came from about the same time? But somehow you lost a month."
Steve rubs his forehead and then shrugs it off before looking around for the nearest clothing store. "Okay, that one has more of a... lady of the night vibe, which I'm pretty sure isn't your thing, so." He turns a bit and then points at another one that looks relatively normal. "That one? Get some clothes, and then we'll go back to my place and you can clean up, and we'll go from there."
Yeah, that seems like a solid plan. Just one foot in front of the other, right? If you're going through hell, keep going. All that shit.
no subject
Trying to actually situate herself, Robin drops into a nearby bench with a view of the fountain. It's kind of comforting, the way the malls in different dimensions are kind of still the same. "The movie theater was a couple hours ago for me," she says, slowly piecing time together. It already feels like it was days and days ago but it's barely been the space of one night.
"We puked our guts up–" And, she realizes with disappointment, Steve doesn't remember what she told him then. "–and we tried to leave but the Russians were guarding the doors. We were hiding out in the food court and then all of your other children showed up. Including one who can move things with her mind? Steve. How do you know someone with super powers?"
And that's still not up to said girl with super powers screaming, biting down on a spoon, and yanking something out of Alien from her fucking leg.
no subject
Steve watches with concern as she speaks, only interjecting with a heartfelt ugh, the puking before letting her continue. Her story frightens him, and his stomach twists with worry when he finds out that the other kids were involved. If El was using her powers out where people could see it must have been something really bad. Like the fucking Mind Flayer.
"I always told you that I contain multitudes," Steve says, trying to joke, but the worry is obvious all over his face. "You wondered why I was friends with kids. And it's because we've been through shit together. Like, really heavy, almost end of the world shit. It forms a bond."
He's quiet for a minute, and then he looks over at Robin with concern. "Is everyone okay?"
no subject
"Also you were strangely calm about the fact that the Mind Flayer had apparently melted a bunch of people to make itself a body. Which...I saw? On the roof?" Robin lifts her head up to give Steve a long look, one in which she tries to compress every single emotion like some kind of laser beam.
It's weird now. Maybe it was the shock and adrenaline at the time but Steve had been so been-there-done-that about it before. The fact that he actually looks worried is actually kind of scary.
"I mean. Everyone was alive. The scary meat puppet was still a problem."
no subject
He lets out a relieved breath when Robin says that everyone is okay, but he can't really relax. It sounds like Robin was taken in the thick of it, and he has the terrifying realization that unless someone else shows up from later, he may never know what happened.
"Let's get you some clothes," Steve says as he stands up, because it's better to focus on something productive rather than the bad shit. "And we'll go to my place, because I have one now apparently, and I'll tell you everything."
He looks around and waves a hand to indicate their surroundings before putting his hands on his hips. "Most of all, let's get out of the goddamn mall."
no subject
None of those hidden layers prepared her for the Steve Harrington who apparently has history with a telekinetic girl and experience with a Mind Flayer.
He makes a crack about going back to her place and Robin almost snipes back that she's just not into that and he knows it, except then she remembers that he doesn't. It's a lot more of a bummer than she realizes.
"Okay, we can get clothes but you're buying." She tugs on her uniform shorts to turn her pockets inside out. Just as empty as Steve's.
no subject
Steve knows that he sort of doubled down on the goofiness, and the happy go lucky attitude that Robin saw from him most. It was easier to just lean away from the heartbreak and the near-death experiences, the beatings and the monsters. He didn’t want to think about all that shit every day, so he jumped headfirst into trying to be normal. It’s here, this place, that makes him think that’ll never actually be possible.
“Ah, not for long,” Steve says cryptically, and leads her over to a clothing store. “Do me a solid and check the clearance rack first, huh? Settling in really made a dent in my stipend.”
no subject
"Later on, when my head's not spinning, you're going to need to sit down and spell all of this out for me because about twenty-four hours ago, the scariest thing in the world was that Russian guy with the really big gun. Which is still terrifying but..." But so much smaller than an interdimensional monster.
Stepping into the store, Robin can tell a few dirty looks are getting sent her way but she just tips her chin up and tries to look haughty. "Joke's on you, Harrington. I always check the clearance rack first." Glancing around, though, even the sale prices seem impossibly high.
no subject
Steve stands back to give Robin room, but around the third time she physically recoils from a price tag he realizes that he left out a pretty important piece of information.
"Uh, yeah. One more thing, no big," Steve says casually, sidling up next to her and resting his hands on his hips. "Inflation's a bitch. Because we're in 2019, here. Surprise, you're in the future!"
He laughs and the sound of is is tinged with an obvious edge of manic stress. "Robin, it's wild. Remember when the Walkman came out and people were like wow, this is the height of technology? Yeah, it wasn't."
no subject
It doesn't make the pricing any less of a blow, especially when Steve sounds like he's about to crack. Or maybe she's just projecting how she feels.
"Please tell me that you mean this in a good way," she says. Robin's not proud of how her own voice sounds, all faintly alarmed, picking up on Steve's own anxiety. "Because I could really use some nice, happy news."
no subject
Steve wanders around the men’s clearance rack to give Robin some time to look and plucks a navy blue polo shirt out. He stares at for a second, looks over at Robin’s Scoops Ahoy uniform, and then puts it back to get a dark red one instead.
“Shit,” he says suddenly, remembering what Lois has told him. “You’re eighteen, right?”
no subject
Feeling sort of overwhelmed, she grabs the simplest thing she can that's in her size and not appallingly expensive–a black t-shirt with a ribcage printed on it–and hunts for a pair of jeans. Those, at least, can't be that different.
"I'm eighteen in January. Why?"
no subject
He takes Robin’s clothes as they wait behind the customer currently at the register, and then visibly winces when she says that she isn’t seventeen yet. He doubts that she’ll be thrilled with her living arrangements.
“Well, this place gives you an apartment,” Steve begins, and then turns his wince toward her. “If you’re eighteen.”
no subject
The impulse only strengthens at the way Steve looks at her. "And if I'm not eighteen?"
no subject
For a moment he pretends like he didn’t hear the question, and then steps up to set all their clothes on the counter. The salesgirl starts ringing them up and Steve can feel Robin’s stars burning a hole in the side of his head, so he gives her a sideways glance.
“You have a place to stay,” he finally says, trying to sound casual as he digs his wallet out of his jeans. “But it’s kind of an orphanage type situation.”
no subject
"Orphanage situation," she repeats. Steve is so deadly serious about it that she wants to call bullshit, would have if this was the Steve she'd known at the beginning of summer. By now, she thinks she can tell when he's fucking with her.
Only now, it really sinks in and Robin grabs the edge of a display because she's not going to crumple now. "We can't leave, can we?"
no subject
“Robin,” he says quietly, finally looking over at her as he reaches out to take the bag. “Let’s just get to my place, okay? I said I would tell you everything.”
She’s gripping the edge of the counter and Steve holds out his hand for her to take, and it’s not even a weird ploy to touch her or anything. He just wants to offer some support. He may not be the person she would go to in a bizarre, devastating situation like this, but he’s the one that’s here. “Robin, come on.”
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)