CHAPTER 31
DOCTOR LOVE

SOMETIMES Edward felt like being friends with Hopper was like taking care of a girlfriend.

He leaned against the fridge, dragging the yellow phone cord around his head to press it into his ear, all the while Hopper droned on and on about last night. Sweat trickled down Edward's back, staining his light brown uniform, and Hopper didn't save a second to ask his deputy how he was doing. The rant seemed to go on forever, and the kitchen only got hotter. Apparently, Hopper had asked Joyce out on a date, except he said it wasn't really a date, but she still accepted. Until –

"And then, she just ... doesn't show up!" Hopper shouted. His voice sounded like static through the speaker, and Edward needed to hold it away from his ear for a moment. "I waited there for an hour, Moreda. A fucking hour! I looked like a total loser. Jesus Christ."

Edward furrowed his bushy eyebrows. "You finally left Enzo's two hours later?"

"Yeah," Hopper sighed, pausing to remember the rest of his night. Edward could practically see him smirking on the other end. "Then, I went home, poured myself a big shot of whiskey, and watched my shows. Perfect ending to a horrible night."

"Okay, okay, buddy. I get it." Edward held a hand out to stop his friend's words, even though he knew Hopper couldn't see him. The deputy rubbed at his temples. "Listen, I don't know why this couldn't have waited until we got to the station in an hour –"

Hopper scoffed, "I was upset –"

"But once I see you at work," Edward continued, "we can sit down and think of a way to get Joyce's attention again. I'm sure it shouldn't be that hard. She's into you ..." He paused. "Right?"

"I don't know!" The sheriff exclaimed, static running through the house phone. "Whatever. It doesn't even matter. I never asked her on an actual date, anyways."

Edward laughed, "Sure you didn't."

"Wipe that dumb smirk that's probably on your face, Moreda. I did not –"

"You did so, Hop."

"Shut up!" He hollered, causing Edward to snicker. "And I don't need your advice either. I can handle this all on my own."

Edward heard a pair of combat boots stalk down the hallway, and in came Veronica, dressed in her work attire and heading straight for their fridge. He quickly moved out of the way for his daughter, who pulled the milk carton out before downing it into her mouth. Edward's bottom lip curled back in revulsion, and he turned to the phone once again, "Hey, Hop, let's continue this argument at my office. Sound good?"

"What? Hey! I am not finished –"

He slammed the phone into the receiver on the kitchen wall, spinning on the heel of his loafer to face Veronica. She wiped excess milk onto her hand, eyes flickering to her dad before they eventually narrowed with suspicion. "What?"

"You're up early," he shrugged. "You don't really do that anymore. Doesn't your shift start in two hours?"

Veronica's frown deepened, and she hastily shoved the milk carton back in its proper place. She bumped shoulders with her dad as she headed for the fruit basket on the other side of the kitchen, picking up a bruised banana and tearing off the skin. "Yeah, so?" She plucked off a piece of banana and chewed quickly, eager to get out of this conversation. "I like to be prepared."

Edward brought a coffee mug to his lips. "You usually like your sleep."

"Well, I can't sleep."

"Really?"

"Okay, what is up with the grill, dad?" Veronica spat, leaning her elbows back onto the counter. "Don't you have to go to work?"

Edward held up a hand. "I'm just checking up on you, Ronnie. I'm not looking for a fight." He cleared his throat, lips pursing with hesitation. The silence made a bubble of nerves pop in her stomach. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No," she answered – far too quickly. Veronica swiftly stood up straight and went over to the coffee pot, picking a mug off the shelf and filling it to the brink with steaming, black coffee. "I'm fine. I don't need to talk about it."

He took a step closer to his daughter. His mustache twitched, a grimace pulling his lips down. "You just ..." He shook his head. "You don't look happy, and when you're not happy, it's usually because –"

Her head whipped around to face him, the coffee mug lingering close to her mouth. "If you were happy every day of your life, you wouldn't be a human," she muttered. "You'd be a game show host."

"What does that even have to do with anything?" Edward wrinkled his nose, looking out the window by the kitchen sink, which showed him a delightful view of their decaying front lawn. "Maybe I should get you a doctor – I don't know – to talk about your nightmares. I think insurance will cover it."

Veronica chewed on her bottom lip. Something deep inside of her told her to say, Yes. Get me someone to talk to. I need it. I need to tell someone about the nightmares. But her conscious was already butting in, reminding her how stupid that was, seeing as all her nightmares and memories revolved around a lurid place hiding beneath their very feet. One mention of the Upside Down could land her in some psychiatric ward, or even worse. She didn't really know.

So she lied. Veronica was used to it by now.

"It doesn't matter, dad," she said through clenched teeth. With one last pleading look, Veronica tossed her banana peel in the trash and headed for her room. "I'll see you later."

•••

Veronica really did not like working. It was distracting, time-consuming, and just plain boring sometimes. She couldn't wait to retire, but first, she'd have to figure out what she wanted to do with her future, as if it was that simple. Spending a summer scooping ice cream for rude parents and screaming children certainly wasn't helping her with that decision. The thought of going into college with an undeclared major left her anxious, and she hoped to whatever God was out there to at least give her some kind of sign.

Fuck, she thought to herself, leaning against the outside of the Starcourt Mall, a cigarette in between her teeth, I'm going to be working for the rest of my life, aren't I?

This was going to be it. Work and save money. Save money and work. And that wouldn't just be for the summer; it was going to continue for the next sixty years of her life. How was a stubborn, blue-haired asshole like herself going to survive?

She slid the pack of Marlboro reds into her messenger bag. The cigarette between her chipped fingernails was coming to an end, slowly disappearing into a pile of ash in her lungs. Veronica coughed out a puff of smoke, masking the presence of a chimney, and wiped the sleep away from her eyes. Her dad was right about the nightmares, not that she'd ever admit it, but staying past close at Starcourt last night really did a number on her. She was haunted by the thoughts of evil Russians in her dreams, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. The idea of it was so bizarre that she wondered if what happened last night was even real.

And then she remembered the electricity between her and Steve's hands. Now that had been real.

A scoff resonated from her throat, and she quickly threw the dying cigarette to the ground. Veronica mentally chastised herself as she stomped on it a few times, the sole of her boot pushing it deeper and deeper into the asphalt. She then checked her watch, realizing she had to be at Scoops in fifteen minutes for her shift. With a swift turn of her heel, Veronica hurried into the entrance of Starcourt.

It was amazing to her how the stench of nicotine somehow made people part like the Red Sea for you. As she shoved through the crowds lining the mall, they all seemed to get out of her way as soon as Veronica's perfume mixed with cigarette smoke wafted into the air. For most normal people, they would find the smell disgusting, but Veronica Moreda smiled confidently to herself, moving rapidly past the hordes of families and unruly teenagers. As she made a sharp turn for the food court, Veronica found herself stopping short, taking in a familiar sight, but also someone so different.

Billy Hargrove staggered through the bright hallways of the Starcourt Mall, an old, dirty hat shielding his eyes from the lights. A big sweat stain covered his entire back, dripping down the sides of his gray t-shirt. Veronica cocked her head to the side. He was walking like he was drunk, but what would a drunk person be doing at the mall at eleven AM?

She began stalking forward, trailing his exact movements, and once she was a few feet away, Veronica shouted, "Hey, dickwad!"

Veronica opened her mouth to release another obscenity, but time seemed to go still as Billy whipped his head around. Sweat dripped down his face as he glared daggers in her direction. She felt frozen, lost in her own head, while Billy's ocean-blue eyes focused in on her, twitching ever so slightly, as if he was quite literally trying to burn her with his stare. Veronica had never been scared of Billy Hargrove – not even when he almost threatened her own life – but in that moment, something changed. She felt terrified.

Before she could call out to him again, he was gone, lost in the crazy crowds that surrounded them. Veronica swallowed hard, making an immediate beeline for the food court again, as she wondered if what just happened was real or just another trick of her imagination. She'd know soon enough.

Sliding the heel of her boot along the squeaky-clean floors of Starcourt, Veronica stomped through the circular food court with a ponytail so high that her frizzy, blue locks just about grazed her neck. She expected Scoops Ahoy to already be chock full of children, even though it was hardly noon yet, but before she could enter the parlor and see for herself, Veronica was distracted by a pair of binoculars hiding in the bushes.

She felt her eye twitch. Horny teenage boys will do anything to get a good look at a girl's ass, she thought to herself while trudging over to the set of shrubs that lined the food court. She reached out, claws ready to rip the binoculars from the boy's hand, when she recognized the two faces hiding behind the bushes, arms up in surrender.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Steve exclaimed, sitting up straighter. The binoculars fell to the floor with a soft clang. "It's just us. Please, don't punch me."

Veronica's mouth went agape, and she turned, looking from Steve to Dustin, who grinned at her through the greenery that surrounded him. "What the hell are you two boneheads even doing?" She placed her hands on her hips. "Looking up girls' skirts?"

"I mean –" Steve's reply was cut out by Veronica's hand coming into contact with the back of his head.

"Actually," Dustin replied, as if it were obvious, "we're looking for evil Russians."

Steve nodded, bringing the binoculars back to his eyes. "Yeah, exactly. But I don't really know what an evil Russian looks like."

"Tall, blond, not smiling." Dustin listed off the characteristics with his fingers. "Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags ... that sort of thing."

Veronica waved her hand in front of Steve's binoculars, and he swatted her away. "Hello, Harrington! Don't you have a shift starting in – oh, five minutes? This isn't the time to be searching for evil Russians."

"I'm having a smoke break. Sure you've heard of them," Steve mumbled under his breath.

Her frown deepened.

"It's fine, Veronica. I got Robin to cover for me." He said, practically shooing her away. "Oh, shit!"

Dustin's head perked up. "Did you find one?"

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead, Mark Lewinsky!" Steve shook his head and lowered the binoculars. "Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench! Right, Ronnie?"

Veronica blinked, looking from Steve to Dustin, a deadpanned expression covering her entire face. With a swift shake of her head, she shoved her palm into Steve's forehead, pushing him back just a little bit, before walking away for her shift. "I gotta motor, losers," she muttered. "Don't have too much fun without me."

Dustin snatched the binoculars out of Steve's hands then, almost dragging his friend's neck along with him. "Hey, hey, hey!" Steve cried, tugging the leather strap off his throat before Dustin choked him to death.

"You are the worst spy in history, you know that?" Dustin chastised, looking through the binoculars with his own eyes. "Besides, I don't even get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."

Steve whipped his head in Dustin's direction. "What are you going on about?"

"Veronica," Dustin emphasized, "and you."

"Dude, how many times are you gonna mention our breakup? Stop it!" Steve exhaled heavily, turning his head to watch Mark Lewinsky fake a winning hoop shot for Anna. "It wasn't even my choice, man. I didn't want it to happen."

Dustin rested the binoculars against his chest and sent Steve a frown. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. All I know is that you two walk around like everything is all good and dandy, but there's this weird tension in the air that I could cut with the dullest knife in my mom's kitchen drawer. It's disgusting."

"Oh, yeah?" Steve challenged. "Then what am I supposed to do about it, Doctor Love? She wanted to break up so a long distanced relationship wouldn't distract her in college. I'm not about to make her college experience a living hell while I'm still stuck in Hawkins. I just won't do that."

"Her life is already a living hell. She has to work with you, her ex-boyfriend!" Dustin shook his head. "All I'm saying is, you both seem upset by the breakup, and it's annoying. Instead of shopping around for a new girl that you have to lie to make yourself look cool again, why don't you date somebody you actually enjoy being around? Somebody you've might've just totally fallen in love with."

Steve's mouth fell open. "How do you know about that?"

Dustin grinned. "I've read your journal."

"That was private!"

"Nothing is private to Doctor Love, Steve," Dustin replied before turning to eye the food court once again. "So, please, take my advice for once. Seeing you both miserable is like finding a lost puppy on the road."

•••

It was a historic day in Hawkins. Why you may ask? Because it was the day that Veronica Moreda finally got Erica Sinclair to buy a sundae instead of asking for a sample.

She became completely fed up with the younger girl breaking their company policy, but she didn't know that all she had to do was threaten to ban her for life to finally get her to buy some goddamn ice cream. It was genius, really. Veronica practically had Erica in the palm of her hands once she gave that warning, and now, she was happily watching the younger girl divulge in a mint chocolate chip sundae with her friends in a crowded booth. It was almost too easy.

"The week is long," she heard Robin repeat in the back, enunciating each word differently. "The week is long. The week is long. What the fuck does that even mean?"

Veronica turned and approached the window to the back room. She leaned against the counter on her elbow, peering into the back to find Robin perched near the window, a pair of earphones strapped around her neck with a notebook in one hand and a cup of soda in the other. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Trying to figure this code out," Robin sighed, pressing her cheek to the glass window. She offered the plastic cup to Veronica. "Want some?"

"No thanks," Veronica replied. "I prefer slushies during the summer."

Robin shrugged, taking a long sip from her straw. "I just don't get it," she continued. "What could, 'the week is long,' be code for? Who the fuck is the silver cat?"

"Or what," Veronica reminded with a pointed finger.

"Exactly," Robin agreed, voice cracking slightly. She sounded tired. Who would've thought that a child's theory about evil Russians invading Hawkins would take over her life? "Hey, distract me. I don't want to think about this on my lunch break."

Veronica's eyes darted around the room. "With what?"

Robin flashed her a bright, mischievous grin. "You ... could actually tell me why you broke up with Steve?"

The blue-haired girl sighed, her spine pressing against the counter, as she refused to meet Robin's eyes again. Rubbing at her temples, Veronica replied, "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"It's part of my data," she quipped, "obviously."

Veronica whipped her head back around, the ends of her ponytail practically smacking her in the face. She frowned in Robin's direction, but the blonde smiled innocently, waiting for an answer. Eventually, Veronica groaned and gave in: "I'm going to college in Pennsylvania," she explained, "and we both agreed that going long-distance wouldn't work. We decided to break up after graduation because we didn't want to string along a relationship that was going to end in September. There you go. The end."

"That's it?" Robin blinked. "Dingus has been looking miserable because his ex wanted to go to college? Go figure." She then shrugged, slurping the rest of her soda down. "I guess that makes him a good guy, though. Letting you go and shit. You know, most dudes would put up an absolute fight about that, or refuse to talk to you again. Guys are assholes. Girls are much better."

Veronica chewed on her bottom lip, looking away for a moment as she processed Robin's response.

"You know," Robin added, tilting her head to the side, "this does also explain why he's been singing Summer Nights under his breath since he got here."

Veronica chuckled, shaking her head as a knock sounded on the backroom door. It was only ever used when Steve allowed the kids to go through it to see a free movie at the Starcourt Theater. Veronica crinkled her brow, meeting Robin's confused stare, before the blonde hopped off the counter and tugged the door open.

It was just some delivery guy, probably handing them a package of new scoopers that Jerry insisted they needed so badly. Veronica turned back to the counter once someone rang the bell, while the wheels began to turn in Robin's head as she caught a glimpse of the silver lynx logo on the delivery worker's back. Veronica hadn't seen a thing.

And that was when she noticed Robin sprint out of the backroom, right into the chaos of the mall.

•••

A/N: Looking back on old chapters and realizing that they were only like 1,000 and now I can't shut up 🤭🤭🤭 Sorry y'all gotta deal with 3,000 word chapters GOD

Probably should've mentioned this sooner, but I made a playlist for Ronnie and Steve's obviously canon mixtape 💁🏼‍♀️

You can find the playlist, as well as the soundtrack for this fic, on my Spotify! My username is just @stxrmborn 🥴

( made by JustSav )