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c h a p t e r f o u r t y - t h r e e
"Robin," Nancy whispers, waking the blonde up.
She'd spent the entire night going over a plan to find out more about Vecna, even going as far as to keep her newspaper minions on standby in case she needed their skills today.
She groggily responds, obviously not all the way there yet. "Hm?"
"I have an idea, wake up," she taps her repeatedly, forcing her to get up.
"It's..." she glances at her watch, groaning at the time. "7 in the morning, you psycho."
"We have lives to save," Nancy brushes her off, starting to walk upstairs.
"What about Sam?" she points to the girl softly snoring on Steve's chest.
"What about her?"
"Whatever weird rivalry thing you've got going on, set it aside. We're not doing this without her, whatever your plan is."
"We're gonna talk to Victor Creel. But first, we have to pretend to be Psychology students at a university. As in, scholarly individuals."
"Not seeing how excluding Sam fits in here."
"She'd-"
"I can hear you, Nancy," Sam opens her eyes, sitting up. "I'm sleeping, not dead."
"Great," Nancy mutters. "Look, it's nothing personal, just-"
"Just what? Please inform me as to why you think I can't be scholarly," she crosses her arms.
"It's not that. Let's go upstairs."
"Fine," she narrows her eyes, following the brunette and Robin to her room.
____
"Okay, we're upstairs. So explain," Sam leans against the door.
"It's nothing personal, Samantha," she shrugs as she begins to write a rough draft of the girls' resumes.
"Sounds pretty personal," Robin grimaces.
"We need to appear like well-mannered, scholarly, university students. Respectable."
"She's on the honor roll," Robin furrows her eyebrows.
"It's not about whether you're intelligent or not. You just... You look like a cheerleader. And you're not interested in anything scholarly. I mean, you're going to art school- Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's not exactly Harvard."
"You're not even going to Harvard," Sam narrows her eyes, a chuckle leaving her mouth. "Sorry, I forgot you think I'm a bimbo."
"Jesus-"
"Bimbo?"
"B-I-M-B-O. Idiot. Imbecile. Thought you were the genius," she retorts. "I am so sick of you looking down on me."
"I do not look down on you."
"Yes, you do. You don't think I'm as smart as you. You don't think I'm as capable. You think I'm a slut. Admit it Nancy. You think I'm below you."
"You're being ridiculous."
"No, I'm really intrigued to know what you're gonna do when you realize that you're not the only smart girl in the world. You think you're better than quite literally everyone you meet. That you're entitled to all the good in the world just because you're Nancy Wheeler. Newsflash, no one in the real world cares."
"Oh, yeah, Samantha? What are you gonna do when you realize that everyone can see how insecure you are? I mean, Queen of Hawkins High? What a joke."
"Guys-"
"Nancy, please enlighten me what your problem with me is. Because I know why I don't like you, but really, you have no reason not to like me."
"Guys-"
"You're so shallow, I mean all you care about is being popular and looking good, instead of the real things that matter-"
"You haven't experienced a single real thing in your life! You've been walking around with a silver spoon and crocodile tears since you were 5!"
"Oh whatever. The truth is, we don't need you for this. I'll call you when I need fashion advice."
"Oh, you mean right now?" she mocks, eyeing her outfit up and down. "Look, whether you think I'm an idiot or not, you and I both know I know how to handle people."
The brunette pauses, accepting that even though she had her qualms with her, Sam was an asset ninety percent of the time.
"Fine, Samantha. You can come. Happy?"
"Elated," she sits down next to Robin, glaring at the back of Nancy's head.
"Can you call Pennhurst Asylum?"
______
A few hours later, Nancy's minions come by with the resumes, handing them to each girl.
"Julie Rodriguez?" Sam raises her eyebrows.
"I couldn't use our real names, just in case we get caught."
"I'm just glad you didn't choose Maria," she jokes. "And I admit these look decent."
"Just decent?"
"Don't push it."
"Okay," she pipes down, opening the door for them to go downstairs to tell the group their plan.
They walk down to the basement to see the boys all reading the articles about Victor Creel that'd they'd copied at the library, while Max continues to write something at the desk.
Sam looks at her in concern, as she had been doing so since Nancy and Robin woke her up.
"So, we have a plan."
"Thanks to Nancy, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame."
"I'm now Ruth," Nancy grins.
"I'm Julie," Sam adds, sitting on the arm of Steve's chair.
"And I'm Rose," Robin finishes off, as Steve continues flipping through.
"Julie?"
"Boring, I know," Sam shrugs.
"Nice GPA."
"Thanks."
"So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we'd like to speak with Creel for a thesis we're co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics... To which they said no," Robin starts.
"But we landed a three o'clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor. Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse."
"About that. We've been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh... we got some questions," Steve looks back at the article in his hands.
"Lots of questions," Lucas agrees.
"So do we. Hopefully, Victor has the answers," Sam responds.
"Wait... Wait... Wait a second. Uh... Where's mine?" Steve looks between the girls in confusion.
They all make eye contact, sharing a communal grimace, before Sam grabs his hand.
"We figured you would just stay with the kids," she sweetly remarks, and he almost gives up at her grin, before quickly snapping out of it.
They head upstairs, only for him to follow, annoyance in his tone as he says, "You're outta your mind if you think I'm babysitting again."
"First, they're not babies anymore," Nancy retorts.
"And Max is in serious danger. She needs someone there to protect her, because let's face it, Lucas and Dustin have the collective strength of a fourth grader."
"I know. But why me?"
"Oh my God, you have a Tom Cruise poster," Robin gasps towards Nancy before turning to Sam. "You have a Tom Cruise poster."
"That's old. It's just..."
"I liked Risky Business," Sam shrugs.
"Can you please not touch anything?" Nancy scolds the blonde.
"I can't do anything here. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don't know. I could turn on my... my charm," he snaps his fingers.
"I've seen your charm in action, okay? We need to convince him, not seduce him," Sam teases.
"Yeah, it's not the charm we need."
"Ouch."
"No, I just... I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. If we're gonna win him over, we're gonna have to convince him we are too."
"Yeah, I almost didn't make the cut," Sam gives her a pointed look.
"Samantha-"
"What? I'm stating a fact. Nancy thinks we're stupid," she nudges Steve's side.
"I did not say that."
"You thought it," she shrugs.
"My point is, Steve, that we need to show him that, like him... we are true academic scholars."
"Holy shit. There's a little ballerina in here," Robin continues messing around with Nancy's stuff.
"Academic scholar? She's giving you an academic scholar vibe?" Steve points to her, incredulous tone to his voice.
"Yeah, no, but... she will. They both will," Nancy smirks.
"Oh, please, tell me you're joking."
"No," Sam takes two dramatic steps back, grabbing Steve's collar for dear life. "Don't let her do this to me. Please!"
"Sam, it's gonna be okay," he pats her head, before whispering to Nancy, "She's gonna kill you."
She widens her blue eyes at that, turning to the closet to distract herself as Sam pretends to sob.
"My wardrobe is not that bad," she rolls her eyes.
"Yes, it is," Sam nods, while Steve sits at the desk.
"Robin, you're wearing..." Nancy rifles through her closet, handing Robin a pink and yellow outfit. "This."
Robin gulps at the sight, unable to hide her wince as she takes it to the bathroom.
"Samantha... you can wear this," she holds up a powder blue pantsuit.
"Absolutely not."
"This?"
"Do I look like a middle aged white woman?"
Steve snorts at that one, thoroughly entertained by this.
"Why can't I just wear my own clothes? I love the preppy style. It's one of my best."
"How do I put this, Samantha?" Nancy puts the dress back on the rack.
"You'll be too hot," Steve winks.
"Yeah, that's the goal," she flares her hands out, looking through her closet. "If I start dressing like you, my mom will think I'm going Amish."
"You are impossible."
"None of these skirts stop higher than your shin," she holds some up for emphasis. "And do you own a single heel higher that 2 inches?"
"Just pick something, God!"
"Fine," Sam takes a few more minutes, ultimately grabbing a grey blazer and skirt set, pairing it with a baby pink button up and a pair of pink kitten heels.
She goes to change in Mike's bathroom, frowning at how "not her" the clothes looked. Of course, she can't help but tweak a few things, like rolling the band of the skirt just enough to make it a flattering length, unbuttoning the first couple buttons of the top and safety pinning the blazer at the waist.
She does her makeup as well, thanking God she always kept some in her purse, making sure to keep it sweet and simple before tying half of her hair up with pink ribbon.
Satisfied, she walks back in the room, cackling at Robin's attire. "This can't be real."
"That skirt was longer," Nancy narrows her eyes. "And fully button up the shirt."
"It's like you find joy in tearing me down," she sighs, buttoning the 2 buttons once more. "The skirt stays."
"Fine. Let's just go," Nancy begins to lead them out, Steve stopping Sam before she goes.
"I don't like not going with you," he shakes his head.
"I know, and if Max didn't need you to watch out for her, then I would force Nancy to let you come."
"Yeah, and who's gonna watch out for you?" he meets her eye.
"Robin."
"Just be careful, please. Anything, and I mean, anything happens, call us. I mean it, Sam. I lo- I really can't lose you," he slips up, immediately being filled with nerves.
"You won't," she softly kisses him, before joining Robin and Nancy in the station wagon.
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a/n: robin is the captain of the sam flores defense squad