𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - indiana flyer

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 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 at the very same conclusion as Scarlet. This damned Russian mumbo-jumbo made no sense. None. At. All.

 They rifled through the words, they'd assaulted the pause and play buttons with their heavy fingers poking and prodding... they'd translated, and they'd re-translated just in case. Each attempt ended the very same way; Scarlet would blow out a hearty breath, her hair ruffling as she tossed her head back. Robin would goggle and glare at the words, willing them to change and make a lick of sense... and Dustin would topple forth, forehead clammering against the metal table he sat at.

 'The week is long.'

 Apparently, Scarlet's Russian hadn't been off at all. For the very words she had managed to uncover, matched with the ones Robin had made out. But what the hell did they mean?

 They'd taken a short break, each of them mulling over the words as they slumped in cold chairs, slurping away at the Cola Scarlet had left to buy for each of them. It was quite clear to them all that nothing they would soon uncover would steer them any closer... After all, if Scarlet's first translated sentence had been correct, it wasn't unlikely that her second one would be too.

 'The silver cat feeds.'

 That had been the second sentence... and it wasn't any less evasive and utterly ridiculous than the first.

 The only thing that had kept Scarlet from descending into a pit of absolute insanity as she stared at symbols and dodgy words... was the short and sweet visit from Eleven and Max. Their voices had chimed from in front of the store counter, each of their faces alight with grins as they prattled off their request to Steve, all the while calling out that they'd be catching the bus home.

 Steve had served them happily, a crooked grin on his own lips as he drizzled extra syrup atop their cones; blue raspberry for Max, and chocolate for Eleven; it seemed as though Scarlet's sweet-tooth had rubbed off on the littlest of Hopper's.

 Steve had waved them off, fingers digging into his pocket to procure a few notes to cover their order, even if Max had tried to intervene — which was strange for the girl.

 It was sweet, really, to see just how much Steve had taken to Eleven. He'd never met her prior to Scarlet's arrival in Hawkins, and yet within such a short time, Steve regarded her the very same way he did with Dustin; the little sibling he never knew he wanted.

 It had grown impeccably late by the time Scarlet and Robin — with a dash of help from Dustin and Steve — had finally translated a majority of the mumbled Russian words glossed in static from Dustin's tape.

 It had surprised Scarlet that she remembered a vast majority of the words and phrases she'd been taught... though perhaps she'd simply buried that knowledge along with anything else that had stemmed from her time within the lab. But the moment she'd opened the cap that kept everything bottled up... it all poured out.

 The lessons within a plain old room, her blunt pencil scratching away at her paper. The utter silence as one of the doctors marked her attempts; either scowling with contempt at her failures or simply brushing her by at her success.

 The odd little cluster of teens and tweens all stood before the board, eyes darting to and fro as they drank in the words... still, none of it was comprehensible. Scarlet had taken a step forth, lips barely parting as she mumbled the phrases in Russian, and then again in English.

 "The week is long, the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west." Her arms flew into the air, "What does that mean?"

 Robin shoved her hands within her pocket, long and jittery fingers twiddling with an old coin she'd forgotten, and a ball of lint that she'd sworn she'd thrown away... She couldn't help but furrow her brows, peering over her friend's shoulder, eyes scrutinising the words; they'd been over them so many times and yet reaped no rewards, no sense of, well, anything.

 Reluctantly, Robin finally sighed, "I don't know." It sounded as though it had pained her to say it, for Robin Buckley liked knowing absolutely everything. "We'll try again tomorrow."

 Scarlet, after a moment of consideration, turned from the board. It was a stab to the heart to watch as Dustin's face crumpled in utter defeat... and to be entirely honest, Scarlet felt the very same as the boy. She'd thought about it... Dustin had told them all that his Ham Radio could reach long distances... but there was absolutely no way it could have stretched as far as Russia. That was absurd. So... wherever this Russian mumbo-jumbo came from, it couldn't have been all that far away.

 So why were there Russians speaking in what Robin had called 'tongues' once or twice, outside of their own country? Especially when their relationship with America was still... twitchy, as one might say. One wrong word could result in... well, they didn't need nor want to think about that.

 Scarlet hung back as Robin and Steve got to work on closing the store. Her lips clamped around an ice cream wafer, nibbling on the edges while Dustin snacked on a handful of nougat he'd swiftly stolen under Steve's scowling eyes.

 "I mean..." Steve muttered, hands grappling at the shutters as he tugged them to the ground, a loud clatter echoing within their ears. The key within his hold slipped into the keyhole, and with a twist, the shutters were secured, "It just can't be right."

 Scarlet wanted to pull her own hair out. She knew it made no sense; she'd said as much when her first translation had been concluded... but they'd been through it time and time again. Robin had checked, Scarlet had checked, they'd worked alone and they'd worked together... each time brought forth the very same answer; one that made no sense at all. But that didn't make them any less right.

 "It's right, Steve." She said, holding her hand to heave him to his feet. He didn't need the helping hand, yet nonetheless, he took hold and warmed her chilly fingers. He almost bounced upwards, peering down at Scarlet with a smile that she couldn't help but mirror, "We checked."

 "I'm just saying that —"

 "— And we're telling you that we. Are Right." Robin butted in.

 Dustin walked ahead of each of them, hands fiddling with the cap atop his head. A few of his springing curls had erupted, sweat from the summer heat finally cooling off, "I think it's great news." he chimed in with what appeared to be delight.

 But then... what else would they have expected from Dustin 'I kept a Demo-dog after it ate my mother's cat' Henderson? He loved this shit; he thrived in it. Scarlet knew he was a smart kid, hell most of Hawkins knew it; too smart, a majority would say, and far too nosey... So of course he wanted to crack the case that he'd uncovered.

 Steve scoffed, "How is this great news? I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

 "It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It's obviously a code."

 There he was again with that bulging brain of his. Scarlet had come to the very same conclusion... because what else could it have been? Why would Dustin just happen to catch a Russian reciting random words? Why would they be repeated as though to ensure that the message was received loud and clear?

 There was no other reason.

 The boys had descended into a squabble, just as they always did. Robin blinked at them, her cerulean eyes flooded with absolute boredom as she watched the pair continue to prattle away. She gestured towards them, her nose turning up as she teetered closer to Scarlet, "How do you put up with this?"

 Scarlet paused; she couldn't help but enjoy watching the two bicker, it only cemented the very fact that they were like brothers, constantly squabbling like little petty children, yet when danger lurked within the shadows, they were as thick as thieves and ready to stand side by side.

 She waved a hand, "It's endearing."

 "It's annoying."

 "Robin, you're annoying."

 "Well, yeah. But you love me for it."

 "Never said I didn't."

 They grinned at each other, before finally, Scarlet voiced her own thoughts regarding Dustin's ideas, "He's probably right, though." Steve's look of utter disbelief brought forth a swell of laughter bubbling within her throat.

 With ease, she quelled the sound, "That message had to have come from somewhere in this country, I mean, whilst I certainly don't underestimate you, Dustin... I doubt that Cerebro can stretch as far as Russia... So, with how uh — complicated America and Russia's relationship is... Why are they here? It makes sense to use a code in a country that you've been at odds with for quite some time, don't you think? Even if it would draw suspicion."

 Steve remained hushed.

 "They'd use a code so that only the people they're aligned with can understand the message," Scarlet concluded, fingers twiddling with the final bite of her ice cream wafer. She popped it into her mouth, thinking over everything she'd said.

 Thankfully, Robin spoke up, "We went over that translation over half a dozen times, and each time it was the same answer. The week is long, the silver cat feeds... Why would anyone talk like that unless they were trying to mask the true meaning of their message?"

 Dustin, still ahead of them all, pointed a finger at Robin's way, "Exactly."

 Robins strode forth, her tacky uniform jostling around her, arms erupting with goosebumps; the mall was always chilly at night. No bodies to supply with warmth, no gleaming sun cooking it from the outside, in... and the AC was left running... all night.

 She joined Dustin's side, leaving Scarlet and Steve to trail behind at their own pace. Scarlet watched as they chitted away; lips moving so very fast they blurred together; Robin would hate her if she ever voiced the thought.... But Scarlet couldn't help but think that Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were two peas in the very same pod. Neither of the two could keep still for even a moment, their brains seemed to hold an unquenchable thirst for knowledge... and they were ridiculously fast talking.

 "Introducing them was a bad idea," Steve uttered softly, his voice muted within the silent mall. The only racket to truly be heard was the duo ahead and the slap of their shoes against the ground.

 "Well, hey..." Scarlet grinned and bumped his shoulder, utter delight encasing her features when he chuckled and nudged her back, "She can't make fun of us for only being friends with children anymore, can she?"

 Steve chortled at that; it was true enough. Throughout his short-term employment within Scoops Ahoy, Robin had done nothing but relentlessly tease him for being such a pushover for the group of children that always seemed to waddle close behind Scarlet... though... she never quite seemed to direct the same attitude towards Scarlet herself.

 Though, he supposed that Scarlet was actually Robin's friend. They had days out and about together, sleepovers that he dreaded to think about — he truly hoped they never brought him up... or maybe, just maybe... there was a small spark of hope that they did. Scarlet and Robin were as thick as thieves, each delighting in relentlessly tormenting Steve in their very own ways; each little jibe followed by a swift smack of their hands as laughter tumbled from their lips.

 He didn't mind as much as he should have.

 Steve rolled his eyes, a hand pushing back his hair, "She doesn't make fun of you."

 "That's because she loves me."

 "... and because she knew King Steve." He spat bitterly, though certainly not directed at Scarlet, but rather the scuffed-up floor they trailed along.

 Everyone brought it up. They brought it up all the damn time. Steve knew he'd been an asshole, he knew he'd been a bystander when his former friends had acted like utter shitheads to anybody outside of their little cluster of popular kids... but he wanted it to disappear.

 He didn't want to be known as that... That — that asshole anymore.

 From the moment he'd decided to stick around and help Jonathan and Nancy back within the Byers home in the midst of their assault on the Demogorgon, he'd decided to be better. He apologised to Jonathan for the things he'd said, hell, he'd even apologised for breaking his camera, even if what Jonathan had done was a pretty gross and shitty thing to do.

 He'd been the one to clear off the foul words Tommy H. had spray painted on the movie theatre as he'd watched on, he'd given his condolences to Barbara's parents — though they had obviously thought she was simply... missing.

 He tried to be better, kinder — yet everybody always dragged up his past.

 Scarlet, however, made no dig at his former self... she had never known King Steve, she couldn't really imagine Steve being the boy he'd described. So rather than nod her head in time with his words, Scarlet merely cocked her head, eyes narrowed in thought, "You think King Steve would have liked me?"

 "Oh please, who doesn't like you?"

 She met his gaze watching as he feigned utter irritation, purposfully narrowing his gaze, forcing his lips to tug towards the floor. He'd even rolled his eyes in jest as he spoke, "That was a genuine question. Can you seriously think of somebody who doesn't like you?"

 Scarlet parted her lips, Steve beat her to it, "Apart from Billy?"

 Silence encased them... and it was strange. Scarlet, in complete and utter humble honesty, couldn't think of a single person in Hawkins — bar Billy I hate everyone Hargrove — that disliked her, which was weird because... she couldn't stand looking into the mirror.

 But that was because she got to see the truth; the person who'd stare back wasn't the girl that Hawkins had come to know. To them, she was a girl with a normal family in a normal town. None of that was true though, was it?

 Now, Scarlet Hopper didn't want to be normal, not completely anyway. If she could choose every ounce of her life, she'd banish the nightmares that plagued her... she'd get rid of those days buried in her past. She'd happily wave off thoughts of the lab, the murders she'd committed, the atrocious acts she'd participated in alongside Kali all the while keeping every ounce of Eleven, her friends and even her powers... but the world didn't cater to her, and it never would.

 Scarlet's silence spurred Steve to bump his shoulder into her own, there was a divot between his brows, "Hey? You keep disappearing today... is — is everything okay?"

 "People like me... because they don't know me, right?"

 He stopped, feet coming to a silent halt right before a children's ride nestled against the wall of the mall. Neon lights still buzzed around the empty halls, glowing down on them like oversized fireflies. They were bathed in pink; it made Steve look as though he had a rather garish halo glowing above his head... while it glimmered within Scarlet's eyes, highlighting each crease beside them, each twitch of her downturned lips.

 "I know you," Steve said. His voice was far harder than usual, yet still the edge remained as soft as a baby bird's feather flitting to and through amidst a light summer breeze. His brows clustered together, as though huddling for warmth... He couldn't fathom her train of thought. Not one bit, "Hopper knows you. The kids know you... and we all... we all like you."

 He struggled on that last part, not because he didn't mean it... because he really did. But because like seemed so fickle. It didn't feel like an apt description at all; they all adored her. The children — even Mike Wheeler, for christ's sake — stared at her as though she had hung the stars in the sky by hand, hell, they looked at her as if she was the moon itself.

 Eleven, Will and Max... he'd never seen three children take to somebody so quickly. Max Mayfield was adamant about doing things alone, she was an independent kid... yet any and every time Scarlet was anywhere close, she'd bound forth and cling like a toddler.

 As for Will; whilst he was a little kid who always smiled whenever somebody looked his way, those lips were never seen grinning quite as much as when he was around his big brother or the girl who had delved into his mind just to give him a moment of peace.

 Steve... he knew he was no different to those kids. He didn't stare and goggle just because she had some superpower at the tips of her fingers. He didn't gape and gawk just because she was a pretty girl who actually gave him a moment of her time... he looked at her the way he did... Because she listened. Because whilst everybody else around him called him stupid, whilst they all still saw him as King Steve, the douchebag jock... She saw Steve Harrington; the babysitter, the boy with a broken family. She didn't run.

 So yeah, like wasn't good enough.

 Scarlet did her best to smile, but her mouth felt heavier than normal... like something was forcing it back down, trying to lower her to the dirt itself. They didn't know her, and that was the problem. Nobody knew everything... Eleven was the most privy, what with her own experience around Kali and the others, but even so, Scarlet hadn't the heart to spill every little secret to her baby sister.

 She said nothing, fingers reaching for Steve's hand, ready to tug him along before Robin could hollar out and before Dustin could cross his arms and tap his foot as impatiently as Hopper so commonly would.

 But Steve had suddenly spun on his heel. Like every thought had evaporated into mist within his head, he gaped at the children's ride. The little horses stuck to metal poles, the frills around the false carousel... then his hands dove into his pockets.

 Scarlet felt her left brow scale her forehead, vile thoughts suddenly replaced by the image of Steve Harrington slipping a coin into the machine and happily mounting his chosen steed... She almost snorted.

 "Stevie?"

 Not even that name in that tone had brought him back. His hands clambered about, coins slipping through his fingers until finally, a handful clattered to the ground. They scuttled away, one even rolled far enough to slip through the railing; Scarlet waited... and then when the little chime of the coin toppling to the floor echoed out — rather than the sound of the coin colliding with the cherry-red show-car's window — she let out a breath.

 Robin and Dustin had paused, eyes following coins as they scurried like a little cluster of mice along the floor. One bumped Dustin's sneaker, he bent down to pluck it from the ground, sharing a look of confusion with Robin.

 "Hey, Steve." Scarlet tried again, fingers drumming atop his shoulder in an uneven rhythm, "What are you doing?"

 "Uh — I need — I need a quarter —" He paused in his haste, making no move to grab the coins spread over the floor when a perfectly adequate quarter was held right before his eyes, pinched between two painted fingers. He flashed Scarlet a smile, grappling for the coin. His fingers brushed hers by, and as ever Steve almost recoiled from the little shock.

 Scarlet, of course, plopped right by his side, knees bending in time with his own as Steve slipped the quarter into the petite coin slot. Robin and Dustin joined them, the youngest of their group stood upright, watching with almost... concern as Steve goggled at the kid's ride.

 Robin, however, let her sharp tongue and never-ending wit get to work, "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"

 Scarlet cleared her throat, forcing down a bout of laughter that would have surely slipped free. Instead, she turned her attention to the ride, watching as lights began to glimmer, as the little metal horses coated in garish paint came to life and began to spin in circles. Fairground music floated through the air as the horses rocked back and forth.

 Scarlet waited and waited for Steve to say something, anything, really. He remained completely silent, pink and pursed lips clamped together, hands intertwined before him, hovering by his bend knees while he kept his gaze pinned on the ride.

 She bumped her knee into his, "Seriously, what are we doing?"

 "Listen to the music."

 With a short sigh, Scarlet did as he told. She remained silent, lips parted as silent breaths escaped them, her eyes had narrowed, glimmering pools of honey-sweetened tea obscured by her long, oil-black lashes... the only racket was the music — the music!

 The fantastical little chimes that bellowed out in time with the bobbing horses were of the very same tune that could be heard on Dustin's tape. They'd barely made it out, hardly able to hear it, Dustin and Scarlet, that is... But Steve had instantaneously pointed it out, only to be shot down by Dustin with a wave of the hand.

 It seemed that Steve Harrington had given them one of their biggest clues yet.

 "Holy shit!" Dustin exclaimed, swiftly coming to the very conclusion that Scarlet had, a mere beat later. He hopped on his feet, a hand clamping upon Steve's shoulder, "It's —"

 He didn't even finish his sentence, words swallowed by raw excitement. The rucksack within his fingers clattered to the ground, contents spilling out of the crack in the zip like a surge of water. Pencils rolled away, an eraser bounced like a basketball falling from a hoop... and then Dustin grappled for his tape. His finger pushed at the play button... and lo and behold; the very same fantastical tune crackled from the speakers.

 Scarlet bounced in place, knees bending, her hair bobbing freely; she almost knocked into Steve, "It's the same song!"

 Robin glanced around at them all, her shoulder rising in a non-committal shrug, "Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"

 Steve's head whipped back and forth, a disregarding gesture as he flicked his fingernail upon the cursive, sparkling red writing that dazzled upon the ride, "Indiana flyer?" He muttered, twisting to face the only person who hadn't snapped to their trail of thought, "I don't think so... this code, it didn't come from Russia..."

 "It came from here." Scarlet finished for him, buttercream-coated words beckoning them all closer as though she'd sung with the voice of a siren. Her voice was a whisper for she could hardly believe it herself... "It came from this mall."

 It didn't make even a lick of sense; who in their right mind would ever want to be in Hawkins? The town was as dull as an autumnal morning shrouded in fog and damp with rainfall... Why would a gaggle of Russians, clearly speaking in code, ever find themselves in such a dreary little town? Perhaps word of Eleven? Perhaps poking their noses into the 'chemical experiment' that had caused the Laboratory to close its doors?

 Scarlet didn't quite like the idea of finding herself in the very middle of yet another dangerous situation... but they needed to know. She needed to know... because if they were here for Eleven; she'd soon send them packing.

 The cabin was still alight upon Scarlet's arrival home; a small burst of yellow peaked through the cracks around the creaky front door, a light stream trailing from Eleven's bedroom window, only barely obscured by her haphazardly closed curtains.

 Hopper did not look happy, not in the slightest. His shirt — a colourful one she'd never seen him wear before — was entirely rumpled, and a splatter of what to have been red wine had clawed at the material. His hair stuck up in every which way, his eyes were narrowed in a drunken haze... and he'd thrown himself atop the couch with a heavy scowl pulling his features towards the floor.

 Scarlet approached with caution. Her keys had been discarded into the little bowl, dirtied converse had been kicked off by the door... her sock-clad feet were utterly silent as she drew to his side. There were flecks of red swarming his eyes, and he reeked of alcohol, "Hop? You alright?"

 He flinched out of his thoughts, or perhaps out of the drunken haze he'd lost himself within. Eye's blinked against the fog, blearily staring upwards as though looking through Scarlet entirely. 

 Yet still, Hopper nodded as he forced his lips to curl, "I'm alright, kid." He cleared his throat, swiftly diverting his attention back to the flickering television. He was a terrible liar, really, "Uh... That kid who's obsessed with you is staying with El tonight... May?"

 "Max."

 He hummed.

 For a moment, Scarlet almost abandoned her quest, she almost found herself trailing towards Eleven's bedroom where she could hear the eruption of sweet little giggles. She could hear madonna playing, the sound of Max's feet tapping on the floor as she likely twirled and danced in time.

 But that look on Hopper's face hadn't been anger. It hadn't been rage nor disgruntlement — a look she'd become well acquainted with, thanks to Mike. It had been... dejection. He had looked like a kid that had been turned down at the prom, like a little boy who had picked flowers for a girl he liked, only to watch as they wilted beneath the weight of rejection.

 She took a seat and threw her feet atop her fathers lap, "Tell me what's wrong."

 "You're incessant, you know that?"

 "I get that from you, chief."

 He sucked in a breath as though he was ready to chuck her off and stomp to his bedroom. As if he'd tell her to mind her business... but then he cocked his head, a strand of sandy hair still slick with sweat toppled over his damp forehead... She wasn't passive. Scarlet wasn't looking at him as though she just wanted to put together the missing pieces of a puzzle she'd walked in on; she looked... troubled.

 Her brows had curled together, her eyes wide and completely warm as though toasted logs from a flickering fire resided within them.

 He gave in. Like always, "I was supposed to have dinner with Joyce tonight." The words had somehow managed to weasel out from between gritted teeth, his jaw threatening to snap. All energy faded, and he slumped backwards like a heavy sack of potatoes, "She didn't show."

 Scarlet had almost been certain that he was joking. Joyce Byers, the sweetest woman to have ever walked planet earth... she stood him up? Not possible. But that look on his face, the dejected crumple to his features, the scowl on his lips that looked as though it had been brought forth by rage, but in reality, was simply how Hopper processed his emotion.

 She'd never seen him look so... defeated.

 It wasn't a secret to Scarlet that Jim Hopper looked at Joyce as though she was a beam of warm sunlight flittering through the morning. He devolved into a little boy whenever she was close by, a dopey little grin hidden beneath his moustache, his nose scrunching in delight, his ocean-blue eyes positively shining... He was in love with her, and he had been for a long time.

 "Hop —" She wasn't entirely sure what she could say to soothe him. Jim Hopper wasn't often the man you'd find slumped in a pitiful heap, ready to feast on a tub of ice cream like a lovesick teenager... but it hurt. It hurt to see her father so downhearted, and it hurt to know that Joyce hadn't shown for him... that she hadn't even called. It wasn't like her at all, "— I'm sure she has a good reason —"

 "— I doubt it, kid."

 His fingers curled carefully around her ankle and with the prompt, Scarlet tucked them closer, her head coming to rest atop her knees. She watched him heave from the couch, limbs completely limp, arms pitifully swinging by his side.

 She could see the heavy intake he swallowed before turning her way, plastering on a falsified smile just for her own sake, "Get some sleep, okay?" He muttered, his calloused hand pinching her cheek in endearment before he left, leaving just Scarlet alone in solitude and silence.

 The television continued to flicker, an old western already almost over. Light giggles began to weasel from the cracks around Eleven's bedroom door. But Hopper's room was completely silent, not even a peep from the man who'd skulked off in a slump.

 She hated it. Hated knowing that someone close by was hurting so badly... and she didn't have the power to stop it.

 But then... Scarlet couldn't fix and save everyone, could she?

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20-01-2020

edited version: 10-08-22

:･ﾟ★ hi, besties, how are all of you? i'm suffering atm so updates may be a tad slower than usual... but i hope you enjoyed this update; the steve x scar moments have me on the floor. the cute little dynamic between hop and scar have my daddy issues flaring like a wildfire... anyway, luv u lots x

also babes, robin and scarlet? big no. 

steve x scarlet. robin x nancy. we all know it.

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part (this is just to ensure people remain engaged and supportive, as well as to allow me to see what you all enjoyed most!), and please do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3