𝐷𝑜𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛, 𝑂𝑥𝑦𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑛- 𝑅𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝑁𝑖𝑛𝑒- 𝐷𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠

Nancy's hair had grown longer since Robin had last seen it. It was still the same shade of brown, still housing a few naturally tight waves, but it made her look different. Buckley had sensed a nervous twitch in Wheeler as she had felt the continuous sensation of an agitated play while Nancy taffled with the strands beside her. They weren't too close in distance, but just enough to feel the ghost of a movement when one was made.

It had become fairly obvious that the few who had flown from California were quickly stooping into a drought of jet-lag from the journey. After all, it was quite a lot to be at a friendly reunion only a few hours post landing, but perhaps it was for the best, as the party would've been at their door within seconds, anyway. At least this way they could choose to leave when they wanted to.

The teens were all perched around the kitchen island. They were chatting secretively, huddling around each other. Robin was happy that Max had joined the crew, sat next to Eleven with a faint heart. It was to thankfulness that things hadn't changed much, apart from the physical.

The whole ordeal was particularly strange to watch, Robin thought, as she had assumed that they had all grown out of the huddle-and-gossip phase, and were talking much more openly, like adults. Perhaps when an uncommon occasion of no bad news turned up, it was ordeal to share the gossip session like old times. No bad news was a rare case in Hawkins.

Steve, the man who liked to think that he was still of their age, had smugly started walking towards the group, taunting Robin with a wiggle of the hips and a look that shouted nothing but 'look at me, I'm with the gang.'

She chuckled, hiding away the fact that she was more 'in with the gang' than he could ever be- which didn't say much, because it still wasn't a lot. Steve liked to think, Robin liked to know.
The man at the opposite end of the joint kitchen and living-room huddled in between Dustin and Will like an odd, oversized child. They had all become used to squeezing him in wherever he would fit.

The atmosphere in the house was warm; like a cheerful thanksgiving or Christmas meet-up- however, instead of the cozy type of heat, it was just plain heat. Perhaps it was the aura of getting to leave behind the feeling of always meeting up with bad news that made it cozy- always meeting up with trauma, with terror. The feeling was quite a relief to skip. Everything was going swimmingly.

Yet, Robin was still sat awkwardly next to Nancy.

She wanted to make conversation, she truly did, but choice of topic was a very thin line. Buckley's mental note of questions for conversations breached its barricades barely beyond the inhabitants of Hawkins, let alone newcomers from weeks at California.
But it was no good, she just had to speak.

"So," she dragged her word, almost like a song, "how was California?"
A question, pronounced into thin air.

"It was good. Good experience." Nancy answered, turning her head towards Robin's gaze before snapping it away.

"How many times have you been now? You know, since they moved a couple years back."

"A fair few."

The interaction had come across as fairly one-sided, which wasn't an uncommon scenario with the eldest Wheeler daughter. People had learned to work around her silences.

"You know," Robin continued her personal set task of getting her to speak, "I haven't heard much of you recently- apart from the call the other week, of course- how've you been?"

Nancy tugged a smile onto her lips.
"No one's heard much, actually, Robin. I've been a bit too busy to call any of you here- plus the line is always occupied. Guess that's why I cut you short that one time. Duty calls. I'm good though, truly."

Buckley scrunched her brows slightly, nodding along with her friend's words. It seemed a plausible explanation- Joyce was always in work situations, they all knew that- but that surely wouldn't of been the main cause of a sudden hang-up? It was a topic for another time, even though it had technically been answered.

Ripples of laughter streamed from the kitchen as Dustin used his frantic methods of communication to get his point across to the others. Robin would of liked to of known what they were finding that amusing, but she was fully aware that it wouldn't of been anything of interest. Perhaps it was just Henderson's eccentrics that were draining a chuckle from their mouths. She continued to listen.

The adults had finished their tea and coffee. The cups were drained, mouths the opposite of parched. The late joiners had never been offered a drink of any sort, probably from the rush of the situation- and even though Robin's mouth had dried up from nerve alone, she didn't mind that they'd been forgotten. It was easier to dodge the nausea on an empty stomach.
Buckley tilted her head. Nancy's cup was still half full, barren of any steam from the temperature. The liquid laid cold, untouched. She was unbothered. Unmotivated. Cold.

Perhaps it was time for them to go.

Even though it wasn't late in accordance, Robin felt the need to go home; to rest, to relax. The teens didn't look anywhere near ready for departure, but she knew that it was the best for all of them. It was a work night, and she wanted to get some rest so she could manage the day looming. It was then the only job to figure out how to round them all up and out.