Chapter Text
A coldness enveloped Robin’s body. She felt rooted to the spot but when she moved, it was like she didn’t weigh a thing, like she were floating. Her toes barely touched the floor. She was in the Upside Down, she knew that. Recognised it from its glooming, unnaturally dark sky that shrouded above her head and from the vines that slithered over the ground - but something was different.
It was silent.
Deadly silent.
Robin looked around her. She was alone. Alone and outside.
She hadn’t been outside. Robin had been at in Eddie’s trailer, in the Upside Down, with Steve and Eddie and-
And Nancy.
God, Nancy.
Where was Nancy? The last time Robin had seen her, she’d been stood horribly still with her eyes rolled into the back of her head as if she were having a fit or a stroke or something Robin had climbed back through the gate, back to the Upside Down, and tried to wake her up again but no amount of shaking or shouting from either her or Steve had woken her up. Robin vaguely remembered something to do with Max’s headphones but it had all gone black after that.
And then she’d woken up here. In the Upside Down but not the Upside Down. What was this place? The Inside Out or something?
Robin looked around again. She was somewhere familiar, somewhere dark, somewhere in Hawkins. It was a room with a tall ceiling and dark lines painted across the walls. Strange, mangled chairs littered the floor and a broken, ripped banner lay crumpled in a corner. A french horn, rusty and unpolished, was sat on a plastic chair, unused.
Robin frowned. The school gymnasium. She was in the gymnasium in Hawkins High. She moved around.
“Hello? Is anybody here?”
She felt a little stupid, calling out, because she knew full well that she was alone, but it didn’t hurt to try. After all, they’d heard Dustin through the lights, hadn’t they? Robin padded over to the gym lights, flicking them once, flicking them twice, but getting no response.
Another chill went up her back. There was definitely something here.
Then a low voice rumbled like thunder in her ear. “You’re afraid, Robin.”
She whirled around. There was nobody there. Robin knew she should run away, run back to Eddie’s trailer and save Nancy, but something held her feet in place.
“You’re afraid,” It snarled again. “-of what they will think when they find out who you truly are.”
She suddenly felt dizzy. Her vision swarmed and warped and blurred and a painting was set out before her. The gym transformed and became clean again, normal. In the mangled chairs sat students in green uniforms with plume hats and instruments in their laps. In the bleachers sat faceless, unmoving teenagers that didn’t make a noise. The french horn became polished and shining new.
Robin walked across the gym and picked it up without even thinking, almost unaware that she was even moving. She fell into line next to one of the percussion players.
She hadn’t realised she was wearing her band uniform.
Robin studied her horn unsurely. It looked real and it felt real but when she raised it to her lips to blow, it felt as if it were made of clay and it might break at any moment.
A voice spoke.
“What did you say, sorry?”
Robin looked up. On her left, in the same band uniform and golden plumes, Vickie Andrews was looking at her out the corner of her eye, as if she were trying to keep her attention on whatever imaginary game was playing, but still speaking to Robin.
“Huh?“
“You said something just then.” Vickie replied. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Oh, I-“
The thundering voice rumbled in her ear again. “Tell her. Tell her your shame.”
Robin spoke without control. “I’m gay, Vickie. I’m a dyke. I like girls. I like…I like you.”
Her brain screamed at her to shut up, to stop talking, to stop making her heart race a mile a minute. It was as if she was throwing up, speaking without being able to stop, verbally barfing up every secret she’d ever had.
She couldn’t stop.
“In fact, I really like you. I talk to Steve about it everyday and-and…I can’t stop, I really can’t stop, why can’t I stop? We-we…we were talking about h-how you paused Fast Times a-at-at….”
Robin broke off, taking a huge breath and she could feel herself about to go again when she realised the expression on Vickie’s face. It had morphed from innocent curiosity to a look of pure disgust. Her eyes had narrowed, the corners of her mouth turned down, her nose wrinkled. An expression Robin once might’ve thought cute but now only looked as if the shorter girl had stepped in dog shit.
“Vickie, I-“ she wanted to explain, wanted to tell her these weren’t her words, that she didn’t mean it but Vickie was wrenching herself away before she could speak.
“Get away from me, y-you-“
“No, please-“
A sinister laugh snuck into Robin’s ear. “You’re nothing, Robin. Nothing.”
Robin’s lip quivered. “N-no,” She whimpered. “No, I’m not.”
Vickie’s horrified face laughed and then blurred and was suddenly replaced by somebody else. The gymnasium around them swum. Robin was sure her heart nearly stopped.
“No, no, no, no, not here.”
She was stood - no, she was sat - in Nancy’s room, at the bedroom mirror. Nancy herself was stood behind her, three hairpins in her mouth and her hands fussing about Robin’s hair.
Robin remembered this. She was in a memory. This had been three days ago, when they’d been getting into their Ruth and Rose disguises and Nancy had fixed Robin with a funny look.
“This won’t do.” She’d said. “Your hair isn’t right.”
“Well I can’t do it.” Robin had replied. “I’ve never even owned a hairpin.”
Robin stared at herself now. She remembered Nancy plonking her down in this seat and fixing her hair with muted annoyance, only glancing up to make sure she’d got it right.
Oh please, God, not Nancy Wheeler.
There was a blackness creeping up behind Other Nancy now, settling across her shoulders. Nancy didn’t appear to notice.
Robin swallowed and clamped her mouth shut, swearing not to talk. She wouldn’t survive if she blurted anything to Nancy.
“You’ve gone quiet. Finally.” Other Nancy observed, sticking another pin into her hair. “Getting nervous?”
Robin shook her head. No, I’m not nervous. I’m scared shitless.
She watched Nancy in the mirror and saw the bedroom fading into a red kind of fog that obscured everything from view. Despite the fog and the huge shadow that surrounded them, the Nancy behind her still looked like her Nancy. The Nancy Wheeler with exceptionally perfect hair, critical eyes, sharp edges but soft smiles, unsure regards that she masked with sincere politeness. The Nancy that had stuck pins in her hair and swatted at her when she fidgeted but still smiled when Robin admitted nobody had ever done her hair before. Robin had to remind herself this Nancy wasn’t real.
The red fog grew thicker and thicker. Soon, only her and Nancy and the mirror remained. Nancy, again, did not appear to notice.
“Show her, Robin. Show her your shame.”
“No.” Robin whispered. “No, I’m not ashamed. Stop it.”
Nancy’s fingers stilled. “Did you say something?”
Robin shook her head. “No.”
“You’re acting strange.” Nancy responded with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s just…nothing.”
“I can go into the hospital myself, you know. You don’t have to come with me.”
“It’s not that.” Robin could feel her legs moving of her own accord, rising her to her feet. “It’s…it’s s-something else.”
She was fighting herself, she could feel it. Fighting every word that made it out of her mouth, fighting every muscle that moved her closer to Nancy. What was going on? The red fog filled her nose.
Somewhere, a clock chimed.
“Nancy, I-“
“What are you doing?”
Robin looked down. She hadn’t even realised she was holding Nancy’s hand.
“I don’t-“ She could feel tears coming up to her eyes. “I don’t know w-what I’m doing.”
Nancy said nothing. Only stared at her.
“I don’t- Nancy.”
“Show her, Robin. Show her.”
She’s not real. She’s not real. She’s not real.
“Nancy, please make it stop.”
“Make what stop?”
Red fog continued to swarm around them, soon only reaching their waists and obscuring their feet from view. Robin swallowed and tears began to stream down her face as she spoke without control.
“You see, the thing is, Nance-“
She was cut off by a loud booming noise that nearly made her ears bleed and knocked her clean off of her feet. Robin let go of Nancy’s hand to cover her ears but the other girl didn’t move, seemingly oblivious to the noise. She didn’t say anything either. She’s not real, Robin.
Robin screamed.
The noise seemed to be trying to worm its way into her brain, through her hands and into her ears. No matter how tightly she held herself, it didn’t get any quieter. It was deafening, like standing in front of an amp at the beginning of a music concert.
Robin thought she might get blown away.
A thick rush of wind was lifting her up, almost off of her feet, swirling red fog around her. She did her best to hold onto the ground to keep her balance.
The Nancy in front of her changed. She flushed and melted and her features twisted in a grotesque manner, arms and legs breaking, a guttural howl coming from her throat. But, instead of crumpling to the floor like a broken doll, the girl’s skin withered and became fleshy and grey. Tentacles, or at least what looked like tentacles, sprouted from her neck and fingers and her clothes melted away. Her hair fell from its root and became a slimy, slithering mess of tentacular horror on her head. Nancy’s head threw back and another roar of fury echoed around her. When she tilted back again, her eyes had lost their ocean blue colour and were now a dead, muted grey with bloodshot veins streaking through them.
Robin wanted to be sick.
“You won’t leave here, Robin.” The now Definitely Not Nancy snarled. “You’ll stay here with me and become me.”
A clock chimed again. Robin shook her head. She found it difficult to breathe.
“Y-you’re not real.” She gasped.
“Oh, I’m very real.”
Robin was vaguely aware the loud, booming noise that was still playing was music. She’d recognise the sound of Neal Schon on a guitar anywhere - except this wasn’t quite Neal Schon. The tune was the same, sure, a little warped and funny-sounding given The Upside Down’s logistics, but it was different. Played a little faster, she realised, a little more raw, and somebody else was singing the lyrics. Since when did Steve Perry have a mid-western accent? Since when did Journey have a female backup singer? Robin heard a voice calling her name.
“Robin! Robin, can you hear us? Robin, we’re here!”
She recognised that voice, knew it clear as day despite how far away it sounded. Nancy.
“Nance-!”
Robin was cut off by a huge vine wrapping around her neck and lifting her clean off of her feet, making her kick and scream but Vecna’s grasp held her tight. The music boomed again.
“Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it-“
Robin thought her ears might go deaf, it was so loud. She kicked out at Vecna, hoping to dislodge herself, but he only sneered at her.
“Your friends can’t save you, Robin. They know what you are - your shame.”
Tears streaked down her face and she kicked again, sobbing out. “They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care!”
Visions of Vicky and Nancy and her friends appeared at Vecna’s side, pointing and jeering at her, laughing. Robin shut her eyes and salt stung her face. The music quietened.
“Robin? Robin, wake up! Come back!”
More voices were joining in now, calling her name and shouting for her. The song started again.
“She said, any way you want it, that’s the way you need it-“
Robin could’ve believed in God right there and then. She recognised those voices, those strange distorted voices singing and calling her. Her friends. Her friends were singing to her. She heard each and every one of their voices. Steve, Eddie, Max, Erica, Lucas, Dustin and-
Nancy.
Yeah, Robin could’ve believed in God.
Nancy, her Nancy, the real Nancy was calling her, saving her. How could she ever be afraid of what Nancy thought of her when this was going on, right now?
Robin wriggled.
“N-Nancy!” She screamed, the tentacle viciously tightening around her throat. “Nancy, I can h-hear you!”
The clock chimed as the guitar hit the solo again. Vecna snarled. Robin fought a smug grin.
“You’re wrong, you piece of shit. You’re wrong.”
His grip tightened, a deep frown coming over his features. Robin’s converses kicked him hard, square in the chest. He grunted and she kicked again, wrangling both legs into position and landing a double-footed wrestler-like kick to his neck, sending him stumbling back. Thank you, Hulk Hogan.
The grip around her neck loosened and Robin hit the ground awkwardly. Air rushed back into her lungs and she felt dizzy for a second before hauling herself to her feet and running towards the noise.
There was a gap in the fog, a vague light where the music was loudest, where it pulsed against the redness of Vecna’s Upside Down. She could hear their voices louder now.
“Robin! Robin! Robin!“
So hold tight, hold tight. Oh, baby hold tight.
“Come on, Robin! Come back to us!”
Her lungs hammered, her throat stung, her eyes swam and her legs ached. But, neither God nor money could deny, Robin had never ran so fast or so coordinated in all her life.