[ it shouldn't be possible that steve hadn't seen her just yesterday when he'd dropped her off at home, but it shouldn't be possible that eddie is here, either. she thinks, somehow, steve hasn't seen her in a while, a long while; he's holding on to her like she might slip right through his fingers, easy as sand.

robin has the least reason out of any of them to cry, but that doesn't stop her eyes from filming. it hurts to think that she hadn't, hasn't, been here for him, as if she'd chosen not to be here. as if any of them had even a shred of control about all of-- this.

the guilt still gnaws all the same.

she hears eddie, too, talking some utter nonsense about leaving them alone to get reacquainted; she half-pulls out of the hug at the same time steve does. she's glad steve bodily grabs him before she has to. ]

Oh, ho! Nice try. Good effort!

[ as if, eddie.

robin's attention flits back and forth between them as steve talks, nodding when he asks if she'd just arrived. she whispers in eddie's direction when steve implores him for help: ]

So many questions.

[ and that's a threat, munson.

the mention of food has her rocking onto the balls of her feet. ]

Hungry? Try starving. Seriously, I was this close to eating pickled fish, and without the buffer of pizza this time. [ right. context. ] I was helping some guy named-- get this-- Fin McGill fix the labels on his pickled fish jars when Eddie found me. Fin McGill, Steve.

[ yeah, it's still funny.

robin tucks her free arm back around him again when he pulls her close, hooking her chin over the hill of his shoulder. she still smells faintly of her favorite shampoo from back home. ]

I'm glad you're here, too. It would've royally sucked being here without you... [ then, softer: ] I'm-- I'm sorry I haven't been. Because I know I haven't been. You've been here and I haven't. I- I don't know how but, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Steve.

[ one of her hands shifts higher, cupping high on the back of his neck, her fingers in his hair. ]