NONE OF THEM BOTHERED GOING HOME that night. Amara, Dustin, Steve, and Robin collectively agreed that with the Russians actively searching for them, the best thing they could do was barricade themselves in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy rather than venture outside and risk being caught. It also didn't help that it was still pouring torrentially and Amara hated driving in low visibility, so she was more than okay with the arrangement even if they had to sleep in chairs. She was grateful that Eurydice and Scott were out of town for the week and she didn't have to notify them of her whereabouts; as for the other three, they insisted that their parents just assumed they were at a friend's house for the evening. Amara hoped that Kevin wasn't too worried in light of her absence, but if she had gone home that night she would have found that he hadn't returned.

It was one thing for them to pick up on a Russian broadcast and realize it came from Hawkins, but entirely another to hear someone speak Russian and prove it was all too real. And they'd been so nearly busted – Amara didn't want to think about what could have happened to them if they had been captured.

Amara wound up sleeping on the floor, which she found the slightest bit more comfortable than the chairs. From time to time, her bed lacked the stability that the floor provided and she would migrate there, gazing up at the myriad of stars and planets sprawled across the ceiling as if hoping to join them. As if hoping she could forego the stress that came with her day-to-day life as a person with autism in a world that valued accordance but only succeed in reminding herself just how ephemeral life was, how small her problems were compared to the scope of the universe. And then Eurydice would knock on her door and ask what she was doing on the floor, and she'd scramble back to her bed rather than delve into a monologue about how insignificant everything was. Even so, she'd never slept on the floor before, so it was no surprise to her that her back was slightly stiff when she awoke the following morning.

"Where's Dustin?" was her first question, her voice somewhat hoarse and directed at Robin. Steve was still asleep, head nestled against the table, but Dustin was nowhere in the vicinity.

"He's gone back out to take a look at the Russians," Robin relayed, observing her reflection in her compact mirror and grimacing at the sight of her smeared mascara from yesterday. "I told him he should take advantage of this dingus being asleep to go back out there on his own. Last night was too close."

Though Amara believed that their almost being detected yesterday had more to do with their lack of preparedness than Dustin and Steve's quarrel over the binoculars, she saw Robin's point that they would have a better chance of acquiring additional information without the interference of Dustin and Steve's clashing egos. Glancing at her watch, she found that it was almost a quarter to nine, or when 'blue met yellow in the west.' A little over fifteen minutes before they were supposed to open up shop. Though her parents had required both her and Kevin to work every day other than the Fourth of July, she was half-inclined to pretend to have caught a cold from the rain if it meant not having to engage with Erica Sinclair again.

"My back hurts," Amara groaned, traipsing over to the chair adjacent to Robin and sitting down. "Can you give me a massage? Please?"

Robin beamed, scooting forward. "Absolutely."

It wasn't uncommon for Robin and Amara to give each other massages when they were anxious, which they both often were. Whether it was Amara freaking out because it was almost her senior year and she still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life or Robin fretting that her parents would pinpoint her lack of interest in guys as an indication that she was gay, sometimes all they needed was a massage to loosen their nerves, which frequently evolved into physical tension. Yes, Amara's back was sore from sleeping on the floor, but she was also more apprehensive about everything they were dealing with than she wished to let on, and Robin knew her best friend well enough to grasp that without asking.

Robin was still working her fingers along the slopes of Amara's shoulder blades when Steve awoke, picking his head up from the table and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Morning, Popeye," Robin greeted, shooting him a wry smile.

"Morning," Steve yawned, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes. A year ago he would've worried that his hair wasn't in its usual realm of perfection, but there was something about no longer being King Steve that made him barely give a shit anymore. He used to have girls flocking to him in every direction, enamored by his good looks and financial status, but once he decided to amend his past mistakes everyone who had previously enabled him left him in the dust. And he couldn't care less – he loved who he was around Amara and Dustin, the only two individuals in the world who knew the secret behind his supposedly flawless hair and had done good on their word not to divulge it to anyone else.

Now that he thought about it, Dustin wasn't in the backroom with them; it was just Robin and Amara, the former who was kneading the knots out of the latter's shoulders. "Where's Henderson?" he queried.

"On the roof keeping watch," Amara informed him, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. "It's nothing against you, though – it was almost time, and you were still asleep, and I was still asleep – "

"It's okay, I understand," Steve interrupted Amara before she could ramble further, fully prepared to blame himself for letting his need to properly contribute get in the way of their mission. "You can just tell me that I almost got us all killed, I won't take any offense."

"You didn't, though," it was Robin who answered Steve, shocking both him and Amara. "Yes, what you did was stupid, but we underestimated these guards. At least next time we'll know what to expect."

Amara and Robin swapped seats so the latter could have her turn of a massage and Steve was left to balk at her sudden change of attitude toward him. For the past month, Robin had made no attempt to hide her resentment toward him, seizing any available opportunity to belittle him over his inability to land a date and loss of popularity, but here she was, implying that he wasn't as foolish as she made him out to be. Perhaps it was the situation at hand; Amara had mentioned that one of the many reasons she loved science fiction was because world-ending catastrophes called for minimal internal conflict, and Steve was witnessing that play out now. It raised his spirits ever so slightly.

As if reading his thoughts, Robin turned to face him and smirked. "Don't let that get to your head. You're still a huge dingus."

Steve would've gladly taken being called a dingus a thousand times over in return for the smile that graced Amara's features at the notion that her two best friends were finally beginning to see eye-to-eye. "Duly noted," he muttered instead, redirecting his attention to his shoelaces before Dustin could come barging in and accuse him of staring at Amara again, which he definitely, most certainly hadn't been.

On the topic of science fiction, Steve was reminded of how cataclysmic situations compelled individuals to confess their love just as much as they forced others to put their differences aside, at least for a moment. And while Steve couldn't say that he loved Amara – his feelings for her were far less intense than the typical star-crossed lovers trope of characters like Han Solo and Princess Leia and that one other couple from some fantasy novel she and Dustin had enthused about but he couldn't remember the title of – if they were ever in a scenario as daunting as their escapades in the junkyard and the tunnels once more, Steve would at least want to regurgitate to Amara that he cared about her, especially when too many people found it easier to toss her aside than make room for her.

Dustin returned shortly after nine; Steve, Amara, and Robin had opened up shop but none of them had any qualms about leaving customers unattended. The Russians were operating in broad daylight and it was a miracle that nobody else had spotted them, and the quartet was doing everyone a favor by ensuring that nobody else would.

"It was the same as last night," Dustin elucidated, pacing the perimeter of the employee room. "They were loading up boxes into the storage room again – Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes. That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun. Whatever's in this room, whatever's in those boxes, they really don't want anybody finding it."

"If they really didn't want anybody finding it they wouldn't be doing this during the day," Amara pointed out thoughtfully, absentmindedly picking at the chipped turquoise varnish coating her nails. "Anyone could walk around back there and catch them."

"Maybe these Russians aren't the brightest," Robin articulated, fiddling with their silver scooper. "I mean, we saw them last night – they seem to rely on brawn rather than brain if you know what I mean. But they're counting on us not being the brightest either. Starcourt's been open for months and we were the first to find them."

"So maybe there's a way to outwit them," Amara concluded. "Find a way in."

Driven by that persistent need to offer something useful, Steve paused twirling his hat to re-inflate it before suggesting, "Well, you know... I could just take him out."

Robin was less than impressed. "Take who out?"

"The Russian guard," Steve stated as though it was obvious. When none of his three companions appeared convinced, he elaborated, "What? I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It's easy."

Amara envisioned a million things going wrong in that hypothetical scenario. While Steve could hold his own against an army of Demodogs, the two fights he had gotten in with humans hadn't boded well for him. Memories of the patchwork of contusions tarnishing his skin in the aftermath of his brawl with Billy where she had to step in before he caused irreversible damage quickly resurfaced to the forefront of her mind... but even without the guns, the Russians were a bigger threat than Steve had ever faced. There had to be another way in that didn't involve him risking his life.

Dustin seemed to be thinking along those lines as well. "Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?" he questioned Steve, arms crossed over his torso.

"Yes, Dustin, I did," Steve rebuked with arched eyebrows and bruised pride. "And that's why I would be sneaking."

"Ah," Dustin nodded. "Well, please, tell me this, and be honest, have you ever actually... won a fight?"

"Okay," Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. "That was one time – "

"Twice. Jonathan. Year prior?" Dustin reminded Steve not only of the other fight he lost but of who he used to be. The insecure jerk who had jumped to conclusions after spying on Nancy and Jonathan through her window rather than taking note of how distraught she had appeared, who had wounded Jonathan with his words just as much, if not more than Jonathan had defiled his face – words that made Amara have every right to presume he would have made similar remarks about her had he known of her autism at the time – who had nearly driven away his ex-girlfriend and Amara in the process if he hadn't sought to redeem himself. Unlike his losing battle against Billy, which had been to protect the kids from his wrath, Steve's altercation with Jonathan wasn't one he was proud of.

"Listen, that doesn't count," he reasoned, because for him it didn't count towards who he wanted to be. Unlike now, he was the antagonist in that situation.

"Why wouldn't it count?" Dustin wasn't getting the hint. "Because it looks like he beat the shit out of you."

"Amara might have better luck than you, Steve," Robin mused, cutting across Dustin and Steve's subsequent bickering about fat lips, crooked noses, swollen eyes, and blood. "You fought Billy too, right?" she asked Amara.

"Yeah, with my crowbar," Amara answered, momentarily forgetting that Steve and Dustin didn't know that Robin knew about Amara's signature weapon, in addition to the Upside Down. "But I didn't defeat him. Max sedated him with tranquilizer – wait, that might work! One of us could distract the guard while someone else sneaks up and sedates him."

"That could do, but then they'd still know we're there," Robin brought up with sound reasoning. Her gaze shifted a fraction to the right and her eyes widened in realization. "But I might know another way."

"Care to share?" Dustin inquired, leaning forwards.

"It just might work, but I could use more information," Robin muttered, standing up and sliding through the partition window. "Can you drive me there, Amara?"

"Okay," Amara agreed. Though she didn't know what Robin had discovered or how she intended on carrying it out, it had to be better than Steve charging at a heavily armed Russian or scouring for a store that sold tranquilizer, which would effectively knock the guards out but nevertheless inform them of their presence. She made her way through the door to meet Robin, who was gathering cash from the tips jar.

"Guys," Steve called from the backroom. When neither Robin nor Amara responded he and Dustin too exited the employee room. "Hey, guys! Hey, what are – what are you doing?"

"I need cash," Robin hastily justified.

"Well, a third of that's mine," Steve retorted, his voice uncharacteristically high-pitched. "Where are you two going?"

"To find a way into that room that doesn't involve you getting beat up again," Amara hoped she didn't come off as too concerned for Steve, but she didn't think too much of it. She had been far from the only one to fear for his safety amid those harrowing moments in which Billy showed no sign of letting up.

"In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don't get beat up," Robin advised with a mock salute. "We'll be back in a jiff." With that, she seized Amara's hand and tugged them both through the crowd of mallgoers. Amara obliged, more than eager to escape the interior of Starcourt for the first time since almost being apprehended by Russian guards.

IT FELT GOOD TO BE OUTSIDE. With the windows of her Honda fully open, the Smiths resonating from the mixtape Robin had gifted her for Christmas, and the sun a welcoming blaze of light after a horrendously rainy day, Amara could almost forget that she, Robin, Steve, and Dustin were attempting to find a way into a storage room guarded by Russians and indulge in how the breeze rhythmically whipped through her disheveled tresses. She was the type of person who couldn't remain cooped up in place for an extended period of time before growing restless, making it a point to venture outside at least once a day no matter the weather.

Robin's idea was ingenious; while endeavoring to tune out Dustin and Steve's childish bickering, she had caught sight of the vent on the wall near the ceiling and recalled that every room, including secret Russian storage rooms housing anything ranging from bombs to chemical weapons, required air. Their destination was the County Recorder's Office, where they could hopefully acquire a map of Starcourt Mall, hence Robin's request for cash.

"Have I ever told you how much of a genius you are?" Amara yelled over the blast of wind and Morrissey's vocals. "Because you really are a genius!"

"It's all a part of my charm," Robin replied, raising her window a fraction. "I will say though, tranquilizer is a great idea as well. I mean, it has worked before in your favor."

"Thanks," Amara beamed, adjusting her visor to shield her eyes from the sun. "We were lucky that we had one vial left over that night. I wouldn't have been able to hold my own against Billy."

It wasn't as though Amara didn't want Steve to wind up on the losing side of a fight again because she liked him. While she couldn't deny that it was a factor, she had deliberately put herself in harm's way to protect him from Billy long before she started to see him that way. Her feelings for Steve were multifaceted – she cherished him as a friend, as someone who valued her emotions and had trusted enough to disclose to him her diagnosis, as a former jock who was now fully immersed in the world of sci-fi, as a person she could always depend upon. Falling for him wasn't part of the equation, but Amara didn't view Steve through rose-colored glasses. She had admired all of those traits long before her feelings had evolved into anything romantic.

"Dustin mentioned that Steve also got into a fight with Jonathan Byers," Robin brought up tentatively, praying that she wasn't reopening any old wounds. "What was that about?"

"It was pretty stupid," Amara mumbled, idly wondering if it was within her right to share the full details of why that skirmish had taken place. She ultimately conceded that there was no harm in telling Robin since Steve and Nancy had been broken up for months and that it might help her come to terms with the fact that their goofy co-worker was worlds different from the bully who had disparaged Jonathan's family and quarreled with him until his face was just as ugly as his words. "The night when Nancy, Jonathan, and I were hunting in the woods for the Demogorgon, Nancy nearly got killed in the Upside Down, so she asked us to stay the night with her. Steve saw her and Jonathan through the window and assumed she was cheating on him, and his friends spray-painted horrible things about her downtown. That's actually where I met Steve for the first time – I tried to tell him that Nancy hadn't cheated because I was with them, but he ignored me and prodded Jonathan about his family until he snapped. If I'm being honest, their fight was probably more about Nancy than anything else."

"Well, at least he didn't hurt you," Robin stated, seemingly getting the message Amara was seeking to convey; that no matter her preconception of Steve, he was a far better person than he used to be. "If he had, he wouldn't have lived to see another day."

"I hope you know I'm not defending him because I like him," Amara felt obligated to continue. "I've only really felt that way for the past month or two, but I've wanted you guys to at least try to be friends way longer than that. All those months ago when I had an identity crisis and tried to ignore it by offering him advice on how to win back Nancy, he saw through me. Above all else, he's a good friend."

Robin could've wiggled her eyebrows and heckled Amara about how she and Steve could always be more than friends if one of them just plucked up the courage to admit their feelings, but she chose not to. She'd teased her best friend enough times since first pointing out the possibility that she was falling for Steve, and the circumstances they were in were unsettling enough without the addition of hormonal sentiments. But then a thought occurred to her at the mention that Steve had known of her identity crisis back in November, unaware that Amara had told him of her autism a month later.

"Wait, so Steve knew about your identity crisis?" Robin questioned. When Amara nodded in reply, Robin instantly needed to know more. "So... what did you tell him?"

"The truth," Amara responded, signaling right and pivoting onto Main Street. She waited until she had fully turned before resuming, "I told him I didn't know who I was or who I wanted to be and how I actually felt like I had a purpose when I was involved in everything with the Upside Down. He told me he felt a similar way because his dad still had the same opinion of him as before. I like to think of that as when we first became friends."

It now made more sense to Robin why Amara had been so content in the aftermath of her and her friends' battle against the Upside Down. While Robin understood Amara's struggle to conform to a world that wasn't designed to suit her needs, Steve empathized with Amara in the sense that he shone when he was defending kids from bloodthirsty monsters but very little in much else. It had been involving herself in the fight against the supernatural world a second time that had made Amara realize not only that there was no point in changing who she was if society wouldn't accept any side of her, but that she had a purpose through being a friend to a band of misfit nerds with a knack for trouble. Both Robin and Steve had helped her come to that conclusion.

"That would explain why he's constantly looking out for you. It's really sweet," Robin flashed Amara a grin. "Look, I know I've been teasing you about him a lot, but you're really lucky to have him. It'll be a while before I find anyone."

"You will," Amara insisted, releasing one hand from the steering wheel to squeeze Robin's. "And when you do, I'll tease you just as much. You deserve the world, Rob."

"Thanks, 'Mara," Robin beamed, relaxing visibly. "There's just one thing I thought you should know, though. I've heard Steve throw around the r-slur in the past. I know a lot of people do but I just thought you should be aware of that."

Amara's grip tightened on the steering wheel but she forced herself to remain calm, reminding herself of cool, crisp air, stars dappled across an inky sky, the dread that had threatened to consume her at the notion that Steve might not accept her for who she was, and the solace when he did. "How long ago was this?"

"Like, two years ago, I think?" Robin speculated. "Remember when I was trying to earn money selling snacks at the community pool? Steve was working as a lifeguard and I overheard him and those goons of his gossiping about Richard Porter and how he would always attempt to peer up girls' skirts or something. Keith had to hold me back from beating the shit out of him when he called Richard that."

Amara could have easily chosen to end her friendship (and whatever potential relationship they could end up having one day) with Steve upon hearing the news, and Robin appeared to regret having brought it up in the first place. But Steve was proof that people could change when given a nudge in the right direction. He had looked the definition of apologetic when she'd revealed the implications of her diagnosis and how he had once fed into the stereotypes surrounding people like her. He'd been nothing but welcoming to her in the months ever since.

"Well," she murmured, grateful that they had approached a red light and she could momentarily stop the car, "I may have told Steve about my autism... "

"WHAT?!" Robin clamored, causing Amara to jump in her seat. Robin took it as her cue to lower her voice, but not by much. "When?"

"Back in December... " Amara's answer came out as more of a question, for she didn't have any inclination of how Robin would react to her keeping that private for so long. "I'd previously told him that he wouldn't have wanted to be friends with me if we'd met earlier, and when he asked me why I decided to go for it."

"And he accepted you, right?" Robin felt foolish for asking that when it was abundantly clear that he had, but Amara understood. She would have asked the same of Robin if she had come out to anyone in addition to her.

"Yeah, he did," Amara confirmed, a smile extending across her face. "He did."

"And you didn't tell me because?" Robin interrogated, hoping she wasn't badgering Amara with her endless list of questions. She'd lost count of how many she'd asked throughout the duration of their drive.

"I don't know," Amara admitted, for she had no sufficient reason for not telling Robin. "I guess I didn't think it was important... "

"Of course it's important!" Robin exclaimed, brandishing her hands wildly. "Do you know how much this could've changed things? I could've actually given the dingus a chance earlier on, I could've not made fun of him, I even could've gotten rid of my scoreboard, for God's sake! This whole time he probably assumed that I knew that he knew – "

"Robin, relax!" Amara laughed, compelling her best friend to stop monologuing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, okay?"

"It's fine, don't worry."

"But this means you can stop getting under his skin now," Amara suggested. "There's only so much his ego can handle."

"Okay," Robin resolved, but she was still grinning wickedly. "Although I was very much looking forward to giving Steve a 'you rule' once you guys got together – "

        "Robin!"

The two girls dissolved into a fit of laughter, soaking up the sun's rays, the lyrics to Amara's favorite song – Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, which she also associated with Steve, having informed him that it was her favorite song right before she told him she had autism, and each other. They continued down Main Street to the County Recorder's Office, unknowingly passing by Melvald's General Store, which was marked with a large sign that read, Sorry, we're closed.

"IT IS FASCINATING WHAT 20 BUCKS will get you at the County Recorder's Office," Robin remarked, the quartet assembled around the table in the backroom once more. Finding maps of Starcourt had been less challenging than she and Amara had previously thought, and better yet the person behind the cash register didn't question why they wanted to purchase them, recognizing their employee tags and assuming that it was related to their job. She unfurled them onto the table, smoothing out the edges. "Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints."

"Not bad," Dustin commented from Amara's left.

"So, this is us, Scoops," Robin gestured to a box with a similar shape and structure to where they were currently located before moving her index finger to a box at the rear of the mall, "and this is where we want to get."

"I mean, I don't really see a way in," Steve mumbled. He hoped he wasn't offending either Amara or Robin when they had clearly discovered something that would aid them in finding out what the Russians were transporting. However, Robin's grin only grew.

"There's not," Robin continued, unperturbed, lifting the corner of the map to unveil a second blueprint comprised not only of the outlets that made up the mall but the air ducts and pipelines that adjoined them, "if you're talking exclusively about doors."

"Air ducts," Dustin caught on, his face aglow with excitement.

"It was really all Robin's idea," Amara rushed to explain while the aforementioned girl made her way to the whiteboard, which still had the first half of the code scribbled down, to retrieve one of the markers. "Turns out we don't have to directly engage with any Russian guards to break in. Even secret storage rooms like this need air just as much as any other room."

"And these air ducts," Robin circled the storage room, tracing a path via the air ducts from there to Scoops, circling it as well. "lead all the way... here."

She capped the marker with a satisfying click and glanced up, or rather at something. Steve, Dustin, and Amara all followed her line of sight, gazing at the vent near the ceiling that was their way into the storage room, one that Dustin could crawl through and meet the rest of them on the other side without arousing any suspicion.

They got to work, propping a ladder against the wall and unscrewing the metal grate from the air duct (courtesy of Dustin, who somehow knew to bring anything from flashlights to pocket knives around after everything they'd been through in the past). Steve took charge with that particular task while Amara steadied the ladder to ensure he didn't lose his balance. Within time, he had unscrewed all four nails and pried the grate off, handing it to Dustin. But another obstacle came in the form of the width of the tunnel, which Steve now doubted Dustin could fit through.

"Flashlight," Steve's voice was slightly muffled due to the screwdriver clenched between his teeth. Dustin traded objects with him. "Thank you," Steve handed the screwdriver back to Dustin, flicking on the flashlight and directing it to illuminate the silvery interior of the air duct.

"Yeah, I don't know, man," Steve admitted to Dustin after a few seconds. "I don't know if you can fit in here. It's like... super tight."

"I'll fit," Dustin insisted, prompting Steve to step down and for Amara to move out of the way so he could climb up. "Trust me. No collar bones, remember?"

Robin furrowed her eyebrows in perplexity. "What do you mean?"

Steve jumped down to the ground and faced Robin. "Oh, he's, uh... Yeah, he's got some disease – "

"Disability," Amara couldn't help but interject, though it was purely out of force of habit. "He has cleidocranial dysplasia," she told Robin.

"Shit, sorry," Steve hastily apologized, in awe of how Amara could recall the designation of Dustin's genetic disorder when he could barely remember the word 'autism.' "Yeah, that's what it's called. He's missing bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo."

"You mean Gumby," Robin corrected, though she was taken aback at how Steve had instantly apologized for framing Dustin's condition as though it was something revolting, something to be ashamed of. While she understood Amara's reservations toward being in a relationship, she wanted to shove her best friend for not noticing just how much she brought out the best in Steve.

"I'm pretty sure it's Gumbo," Steve persisted, only to be interrupted by Dustin's demand of, "Steve, just shut up and push me!" He had wedged himself halfway through the duct, his lower body sticking out and feet planted on the second-highest step of the ladder. Amara doubted that he could make it in all the way, let alone reach the storage room.

"Okay. I'll push ya," Steve rolled his eyes and stepped onto the ladder while Amara moved to hold it in place again. It was a futile effort, but Amara couldn't think of anyone else she knew who could fit. The best options she could come up with off the top of her head were Lucas or Will, both of whom were nimble and could easily fit into small spaces, at least before they'd hit their growth spurts, but she didn't want to rope them in when they were most likely enjoying a day at the pool. Other than Dustin, she hadn't seen any of the Party in days.

"Not my feet, dumbass," Amara peeked up to find that Steve was attempting to push Dustin through the vent by way of his legs. "Push my ass."

"What?"

"Touch my butt! I don't care!" Dustin screamed, his voice echoing inside the air duct. Steve reluctantly did as he was asked despite his discomfort: Robin was shaking her head in disbelief while Amara was trying her hardest not to laugh at their antics. "Come on! Harder! Push harder!"

"I'm pushing!" Steve insisted, moving up one rung and positioning Dustin's legs over his shoulder, nearly slipping in the process.

"You're playing with my legs," Dustin complained. Robin gave Amara a look that read, we really need a better idea.

"I'm not playing, I have terrible footing."

        "Come on!"

"I'm gonna just shove you, okay?" Steve had made it up as high as he could possibly go, Dustin's legs balanced over his shoulder and his hand gripping onto his sneakers. 'Just shoving him' didn't succeed, for Dustin had made it in no further than before, but that didn't stop the two of them from trying again. They were persistent – Amara had to hand them that. She just wasn't sure if it was worth it for them to keep trying to push Dustin in when it evidently wasn't working.

Amara was almost grateful when the bell rang frantically outside, for it gave her an excuse to release the ladder even if she worried that Steve might fall off. However, it was Erica, who was back for more samples only a day after Amara had made it transparent that she couldn't keep getting away with abusing their company policy. She bit back a groan and prepared to reiterate what she'd said yesterday, but Robin caught her wrist before she could exit the backroom.

"Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck! Ahoy!" Erica belligerently dinged the bell, shooting the two employees in sight an overblown salute. At least she wasn't accompanied by her entourage of friends today. "Come on! Come over here and serve me some samples."

"What?" Amara questioned. "Do you not want me to tell her off again? Or better yet, file a complaint?"

"No," Robin whispered; by now, Steve was trying to extract Dustin from the air duct, the two of them having finally given up. "I was just thinking, Erica's small enough, right? She might be of some use to us."

"Be of some use?!" Amara contested, raising her eyebrows. "She's a literal child, we can't involve her in this!"

"Do you have a better idea?" Robin challenged, though not in a harsh manner. "We just have to convince her to go through the vent, not help us out completely. I bet if we offered her samples for once, she'd be more than willing to."

Amara weighed their options. Dustin couldn't fit through the tunnel, Steve couldn't win a fight, and she didn't know where the hell they'd find tranquilizer. But the Russians were operating in their very hometown and nobody other than the four of them had noticed them, let alone tried to stop them. Amara knew enough about Erica from how much Lucas had ranted to her about how she was somehow their parents' favorite even with her cutthroat, argumentative nature, but underneath it all was a fondness for a sister who didn't back down from a fight because she wasn't afraid of one. Perhaps she was just what they needed.

"Fine," Amara decided, causing Robin's face to light up. She poked her head through the partition window and said, "Today's your lucky day, Erica. How would you like some samples?"

published to quotev: 12/11/22
published to wattpad: 10/18/24

AUTHOR'S NOTE

i'm sorry this chapter sucks but i had to split it in half otherwise it would've been like 40 pages

anyway i feel like everyone forgets how young erica is and i want amara to at least be somewhat concerned about her safety