eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2014-01-07 09:42:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | door: dc comics, riddler, stephanie brown |
Who: Eddie and Steph
Where: the training center
When the night after damian died
What: fighting, sads
Warning: yelling, talk about violence and death
Each of her slow, sloowww footsteps echoed, bounced off the steep rocks and reminded her that she was alone in this cavernous space. Well, not alone. You were never alone in Wayne Manor, and surely a thousand cameras were trained on her tracking her every step in the cave. There was no privacy in Batman’s circle, even at a time like this. Of course she should want to be surrounded by the boys, pushing to comfort Bruce, curling up next to the fire and bawling her eyes out. That was expected when your family was facing a monumental loss like this. The rest of the family -- the birds, the bats, Alfred -- were upstairs in various places of disrepair, and she slipped away from them to take some time for herself and found herself unconsciously heading down to the cave. She needed a few minutes away from the dead eyes or staring up the stairs toward Bruce’s bedroom willing him to come out to be with them. A couple of seconds to re-gather her thoughts, to stop crying, to make it all seem real. Because it didn’t seem real, did it? There was no way this was happening; it had to be a fucked up hotel dream. But, as many times as she twisted a bit of her arm in a pinch, it still stung. Though, nothing would even begin to eclipse the pain ripping through her chest ever since Alfred sat them all down.
Even here down in this cave though, she wasn’t alone, not really. No, there, in the middle of the expanse laid the charred remains of a baby bird.
Stephanie’s heart pounded as she approached the body. Body. She twisted her face up in disgust at the thought. No, any minute he was going to stroll through the entrance of the cave with that haughty smirk and brag about the prank he pulled on everyone. It couldn’t be real, it was a nightmare. Closer, closer, until her ears filled with white noise and her stomach clenched in apprehension, until finally she stood above the body formerly known as Damian Wayne. After a moment, after a day, after an eternity, she sank slowly to her knees, and as she fell down, it almost felt like she was pushing through molasses. And, any other night, the impact on her knees might snap her out of it, but it didn’t. It didn’t even register.
There was a shroud covering his face, and she didn’t have the nerve to move it. She couldn’t see her baby brother like that. Didn’t that make her a coward? Some kind of bat she was. Her eyes burning again, instead of reaching to wipe the tears away, one hand wrapped around his. Cold in her warm, living grasp. Swallowing down bile threatening to crawl up her throat, she squeezed his fingers, silently begging him to just stop all the nonsense and wake up, but there was no waking up for the littlest Robin. Then, she brushed her lips on his fingertips. “You stupid fuck,” she choked out against his skin, curling her free hand into a fist and whacking it into his lifeless chest. And then again, and again, and again until a sob broke out, and she almost felt herself choking on her grief. Surely that would have started his heart up again, right? Hi, baby bird, she would say if he did, it’ll be alright.
But, it wouldn’t be. Nothing was going to be alright again, and there was only one thing that would bring him back. And, despite all her loathing, she had thought about it briefly. Why wouldn’t they use it on him? They’d used it on Dick. He was okay now. Damian would be okay, too. But, she remembered seeing Jason roar back to life, and she couldn’t ever, ever do that to her baby bird. He wouldn’t have wanted it either.
Suddenly, she stood up, letting Damian’s icy hand drop to the floor unceremoniously. She couldn’t be around him anymore. Not without ripping the world apart. “I love you, baby bird,” she said with an ache in her chest that would never go away now. With quick strides, she reached the motorcycle that Dick had given her for Christmas, and after only barely remembering to put on her helmet, ripped off into the night. On the drive, she tried multiple times to reach Eddie through their special comm, but for some reason, he wasn’t picking up. Okay, maybe he was at the apartment. She desperately needed him to hold her, run his hand over her hair, and tell her the world wasn’t ending.
But, he wasn’t at the apartment either. Appearing in the apartment in a tizzy, Stephanie searched every room for him, both Bandit and Matilda trailing behind her (because both girls sensed something was wrong). When she didn’t find Eddie in any of the rooms though, the blonde bat with her bloodshot blue eyes and tearstained face snapped. She screamed in frustration and grabbed the first thing within arms reach -- a vase he’d gotten for her months ago -- and threw it against the wall. It was an anger she couldn’t control, an anger she hadn’t really known for almost a year, since she almost caved her father’s face in. Glasses flew, walls were punched, furniture kicked. By the time Stephanie was finished, her entire place looked ransacked, but she wasn’t done. Oh, no. Ripping through the wreckage, she pulled out her Batgirl suit and was out the window with a grapplehook bang in five minutes.
Batgirl wasn’t known to be cruel or so violent people cowered like they did with the Bat. No, wasn’t she that ray of sunshine everyone always harped about? But Steph didn’t give a shit about that tonight. A blind rage that lit her insides on fire and shook her to the core made the blonde bat almost merciless. A couple of thugs trying to rob a church ended up on the wrong side of a kick to the chest that could have stopped their hearts. A drug dealer on Washington St. hung off the top of a five story rooftop. And when she cornered a man who was attacking a girl just around her age, she looked into his terrified eyes with such fury he almost turned to stone. Steph growled at him, animalistic in her rage, and twisted his arm between both her hands until there was a sickening snap. He howled, but that wasn’t a deterrent for her. She repeated the action on the other arm, and she cocked her fist back to start pounding his face in. But, he started to beg, and she stopped, frozen like her programming had gone haywire and just bolted away from the scene.
She would seriously hurt someone if she stayed on the street, but she still had unequivocable ire pulsing through her. Her grapple gun led her subconsciously to the bunker where Eddie had built the training center for her. Maybe she could hide away until the world decided to fucking fix itself.
When she arrived below, however, she still had the waves of pent-up anger washing over her, and she beelined to the simulation room, where CG goons would attack. It was meant to help with her reaction time and combat skills. Tonight, she turned the dial down to a moderately easy setting. Tonight, she wanted easy targets.
After dropping her mask outside the door, she slipped into the simulation matrix and immediately saw one of them pop up. Swift punches, kicks, elbows to the face, brutality for what seemed like hours as she screamed and grunted and felt hot, wet tears slip down her cheeks. A kick to the head, a swift trip to one of them. One simulated form grabbed her from behind, and she flipped it over her back, one boot on its neck while the other frantically fished in her belt for a batarang. Without hesitation, she stabbed the thing into its chest, and it burst into nothingness. Another one received a slit neck from the same little piece of metal.
Breathing heavily and sweating profusely with her blonde hair sticking to her face, she looked around for the next CG victim. When the target was in her sight, she catapulted and stabbed the thing in the carotid artery before stabbing it again and again until she lunged metal into thin air.
It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. Oh no, watched enough movies and talked to enough people and zoned out during enough daytime talk shows to know what he needed to do. Be a good dog. Go straight home. Wag his tail and put his head in her lap. That’s what Stephanie needed now that her baby brother was sent to an early, fiery grave. But, Eddie wasn’t a good dog. He was a scamp at best. A wild mutt at his worst. He had good intentions and he wanted to be there for her, but he needed to check on Muerte. He needed to go pay his respects to old Garfield because no one else wanted to. He had to show Crane what it meant to be a rogue in this city.
Being out of the house when he knew there was something heavy waiting for him felt like running and gee didn’t he always like that feeling? He made quick funeral preparations for Garf (burn the body up, spread the ashes like wildfire) and then held his own wake for the dead man. No one else in Gotham gave a damn that some crazy merc died and that was more than enough reason for Eddie to be the one rogue who poured a little jack on the ground and lit something on fire for his dead brethren.
To Firefly who managed to do the one thing we all thought only the clown was capable of. You C-Listed son of a bitch.
He didn’t stumble home, but instead went straight for the training center. He didn’t check his phone and assumed (drunkenly) that Stephanie would be in a bat hug circle until the end of the night. What did she really need her green man for? What could he possibly say after he spent the day saying goodbye to the crazed killer and comforting his friend that he was forbidden to see? Stephanie didn’t want a reminder of the darkness that hung around him no matter how hard Leland or the drugs tried to push it out. No, Eddie would sober up and then find her in the morning. Make her breakfast. Give her hugs. He’d be a good dog.
Eddie arrived at the training center long before she did, went straight for the ball pit in the obstacle course and flopped down into an instant pass out. He slept heavy and seriously, arms spread out as colorful plastic balls practically ate him up. Hours passed and then he woke up with a start to the sound of grunting and general bat noises. With an uurgghh he swam out of the ball pit, tried to straighten out his hair and hoped to god it was just the mute bat taking her aggression out on his computerized goons.
Nope.
He saw the blonde hair fly as Stephanie brutally took out goon after goon until she flipped one and stttaaaabbbbed him right in the chest, slashed another and then cut another into nothing. Eddie lowered slowly down on his haunches, elbow on his thigh as his hand cradled his chin and he made a faint “Hrrm” kind of noise. Eddie didn’t know if he was in the mood to think about the morality of the Bat family vs rogues. It had lingered in his head all damn day. Finally, he said:
“I think you got ‘em, buddy.” Eddie’s voice was loud as it always was with a tiny slur behind the lettering. His suit looked like it had been burnt in strange patches and he smelled like Gotham, fire, booze and his favorite cologne.
Stephanie nearly jumped out of her skin when a familiar voice rang through the simulation room, and she rounded on her heel, batarang still brandished like it was a dagger. The CG goon finally burst into computerized bits behind her as she breathed heavily, blue eyes flickering over his face again and again as if searching for some sort of recognition. There was a wildness in her eyes he might not have ever seen before, perhaps only when the green goop soaked into her skin. But he didn’t stick around for that either, did he? With a lurch in her stomach, Damian’s death trumped any sort of doubts on her relationship. For a second. Even from where she stood, she could smell the strange mix of charcoal and alcohol. After a moment of staring at him in unabashed confusion, something clicked, and she dropped the batarang to the floor with a clatter.
Nose wrinkled and hand still hovering in the air, she said, “You’re drunk?” As if that were the most outlandish thing in the entire world. The blonde bat didn’t consider the fact that he had lost a friend, too. Or something like a friend. Whatever. Slowly, her hand lowered down, and within the rage and blood (computer generated or not) thirst, he could see just how broken and devastated she truly was. Losing her baby brother had changed her in ways she couldn’t even imagine in the moment. No, all she wanted to do was rip off more heads, cause more (fake) pain, stab until she didn’t hurt anymore.
“I called you,” she said as evenly as I could. “I called and you didn’t even pick up and you’re drunk.” She stooped down to pick up the batarang from the floor and to turn away from him because she couldn’t look at him.
Eddie didn’t look away when she stared at him. Big, dark eyes daring her to a contest he’d always win. He had stared at plenty of people today. Muerte, the police, the guy holding onto Garf’s body, hell he even stared right down at Garf’s glassy dead eyes until he had to blink. He normally would have flinched at that wild, Batgirl look that he rarely had to see these days. But, he had a lot building in him that snapped his nerves dead and made him just as dangerous as she could be. “Eeeh. I’m less drunk than I was before.” He slowly got to his feet and put one hand in his pocket while the other checked his suit to make sure the bat pin was still attached. The one Bruce gave him. The one he should have tossed onto Garf’s body in respect.
“A buddy of mine bit the dust todaaay.” His voice bounced through the empty training center and he stepped towards her. “I had to pay him respects first. I figured you’d still be with the bat crew.” Eddie tilted his head, waiting for her to look back at him. If she did, she’d see that look that said I knooow more than you do that was likely the most annoying quality of the green man before her.
“Less drunk than you were before,” she repeated with a deadpan that spoke volumes of how fucking upset she felt. She still stooped down, crouched over and gloved hands brushing against the metal as if considering picking it up at all. “Congratulations.” Stephanie’s voice was dangerously icy and sardonic. “I’m so glad you’ve sobered up.” She picked the batarang up, flipping it over a few times in the palm of her hand before gripping it to trace a finger around its edges. If she could have only gotten her hands on Firefly herself...but, what would she have done? Strangled the life out of him, stabbed him till he was more blood than body, broken every bone until he was in unbearable agony?
In one swift movement, Stephanie stood and spun around to face him again. “Oh, yeah? Well, my brother died today! Did you know that? That sonovabitch KILLED HIM!” And she didn’t think at the moment about being considerate of Eddie’s feelings. He hadn’t been considerate of hers, after all. “And you assumed wrong. I called you and called you because I needed you, but you were too busy drinking to pick it up!” She waved her hand in frustration, batarang swinging forward dangerously, but not living her grip once. When she saw that look, anger bubbled in her again. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t do that.”
Eddie crossed his arms, made a small shrugging motion with his shoulders and raised his eyebrows at her. She could see a house sized fire burning behind his eyes, though. He could act as calm and cool as he wanted, but he snapped a lot faster than he wanted to admit. Even after Arkham. “What could I have done? I didn’t know him. Why weren’t you with your family? The fuck are you doing here killing imaginary goons?” His voice rose and finally there was some concern cracking there in its geeky highs. “You had an entire nest full of people to be your support today. Garfield didn’t have anyone. They were going to toss him in a mass grave because someone didn’t feel like catching him when he fell off that goddamned roof!”
His breath made a woosh noise and he put his hands up and staggered away from her. Just one step and a half. It looked a little like one of those black and white musicals she caught him watching at 3am. “I’m sorry he’s dead. You know I am. But, I’ve got my side of Gotham to worry about, too. If I knew you were here doing this I’d come in a heartbeat, you know that.” Eddie leveled a look at her. He had been using that phrase a lot. You know that. As if it explained the way he kept brushing things under the rug like it didn’t matter. She knew he was a quasi-religious man. She knew his heart was with the rogues. And, she knew if she was alone he’d drop all of it for her.
But, she wasn’t alone. Not even close. She didn’t have a clue what that felt like, even with a dead brother.
Stephanie could see the fire in his eyes, and though she had a flame in her blues, too, it was nothing compared to the sight in her green man’s eyes. It was Arkham-esque anger that she hadn’t seen from him in a while either, and if she was capable of feeling fear, it might send a chill down her spine. But, she wasn’t. All she could feel was a dangerous cocktail of rage mixed with grief and confusion. It didn’t make sense to her in the moment either. Eddie was supposed to be on her side, and there he was memorializing some C-list jackass when her world was crashing down. Foregoing any sort of promises he made to her. That stung, like the twist of a knife, and she frown so deeply her face could get stuck there.
“If you answered my calls, you would know,” which was all she offered him regarding the fake-goon killing. See, Eddie? Two could play at that game. She knew how to withhold information and skirt around the problem in favor of sharp insults. “And stop talking to me like that!” Like he was patronizing her, like he was dangling something in front of her, but she was blindfolded and he showed off like always. “If you just picked up the fucking phone, we could have talked it all out together.” Stephanie shrugged just as lackadaisically as Eddie did and spun the batarang between her fingers “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m training.” She started to walk away from Eddie and towards the touch screen that decides the difficulties, etc., Maybe she would go harder this time.
“No, Stephanie! No! Why aren’t you- why didn’t you-” He tried to shout over her words and then returned her sarcastic shrug with another one of his own, hands out, shoulders up with a look on his face like he didn’t give a shit about her goddamned phone calls. “You don’t want to talk it out. Don’t walk away from me. Stephanie don’t you even-” Eddie clenched his fists, tight at his chest like someone just outsmarted one of his genius Riddler traps and just let it go.
“DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME!” He yelled so loud someone passing above them on the street could probably hear. His voice didn’t have that adorable dorky high, it was all middle aged bellow that didn’t seem possible from his small frame.
Stephanie did begin to walk away, back to him as he tried to yell over her in vain. They had done this before, ugly warfare of the two of them fighting to get the last word in, but one usually relented in the end though there would be no relenting from her side. As she walked away and he tried to yell at her, she waved a hand over her shoulder. Dismissing anything he was talking about. In that moment she had no care for his feelings; he clearly didn't care about hers, did he? And while she knew in the back of her head that wasn't true, it was nice to be able to direct her anger toward something concrete. Not a dead rogue. Not a patron saint of the darkest shades of gray in Gotham, who could have saved the baby bird if she wanted. Not imaginary goons. Her riddled man.
The yell that ripped through the space vibrated through her body, and she jumped, stiffened, and wheeled around once more. In her blue eyes, glassy from tears and an unmitigated rage, flashed a peculiar sense of fear he hadn't seen lately either. Fear of him. Through all the nonsense that Gotham put them through, even when his mind teetered on the edge and he nearly became what he once was before, Stephanie was never scared of him. Scared for him, sure, but he never of him. The way her heart leapt into her throat, or her stormy eyes widened, or her mind urged her to get out didn't feel right. She wasn't supposed to feel like this around Eddie anymore.
Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and she whispered, "Excuse me," dangerously low. Fists balling up, too, and body ready to pounce.
To be exact, Eddie hadn’t seen a look of fear like that since he twirled his cane and smashed her face in. Part of him was a little proud since there was always a lingering fear he didn’t have that kind of roguishness left in him. Arkham could have taken it all away. Follow that with two months of domestic bliss and Eddie very well could have been a completely different man without realizing it. Of course! That would explain why he felt like he needed to get himself in trouble. A fool’s attempt to reignite a fire that would always burn behind his dark eyes.
That was a very small slice of his reaction. Most of him felt like he just narrowly missed a fatal car crash when she looked at him like that. They were both pissed without a good place to direct the anger and he knew it was just easier putting it all on her. He clenched a fist and brought it up to his mouth, biting on the edge of his finger as he shifted his weight and then started pacing. Eddie kept his eyes on her. Ready to jump out of the way if she was going to try and beat the shit out of him.
“I’m not going to be your punching bag tonight, do you understand me? Huh? I love you baby, but not tonight. Even if I deserved it. Not tonight.” He shouted, teetering to a stop just a little left of her. Eddie looked like a dog with his chain wrapped around a tree, teeth barred. “I’m sorry your brother is dead. I know how close you were with him. And, I know he’s more important than some murdering jackass getting what he deserves.” Eddie told her what she wanted to hear, trying to bring his anger back down. “But, I used to be a murdering jackass. You get it, I know you do.”
Stephanie watched the pacing with the wariness of a cornered zookeeper in an enclosement with a vicious tiger. Eyes shifting, muscles tense, and heart beating like a battering ram in her throat. Gotham’s sweethearts had their share of ugly fights (how could they be Gothamites without them?), but the anger for losses they couldn’t describe and no real way to expend it created a catalyst that could make this as bad as their fight in that old little apartment after he soaked her head with green goop. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she sunk her teeth in so hard that there was eventually the sharp taste of copper on her tongue. As he paced and paced, she took her gloves off, tossed them to the floor, and pressed her finger to the wound, staining the tip with blood. Staring at it for a second, it seemed like her brain had shut off, or she was maybe calculating the next move to make.
When Eddie started shouting again and stopped near her, her eyes shot up and her hand fell with an audible whoosh. The blonde bat rocked backwards on her heels, still angry but still so frightened of what he was building up to. “Punching bag?” she choked out, another step back and tongue pressed to that wound. “Punching bag. When the fuck have I ever made you my punching bag? In a situation like this?” She froze there, suddenly braver than she felt, and she trained her glassy blue eyes on his fiery browns. “Are you fucking kidding me!” Stephanie shouted, arms flapping up and down like the little bird she would always be. It didn’t matter to her that Eddie thought she was in the wrong; in that moment, she couldn’t think of a time she treated him like that when he didn’t deserve it.
Her voice continued at that high pitched disbelief as she rocked back once more. “Maybe you should have fucking talked to me instead of going off to get trashed and-- is that a burn mark?” Her eyes narrowed again to inspect the singed fabric of his suit.
Gotham rogues all had a familiar technique when face to face with an angry bat. Crack a joke. Even if was a shade of the clown prince of crime, every single member of the rogue gallery in all their colors were capable and comfortable with it. To Eddie, it was a hallmark of where they came from, of where he was from. A long time ago that didn’t have a Stephanie Brown to make him stop and think about what he was doing. “Isn’t that what bats do? They get mad and try to hurt someone. Well, geeee, I’m the only one here and I know those computer generated goons aren’t really doing it for you.” His voice edged on playful even if he was still barking at her until the anger started to crumble. “I should have saved a handful of Garf’s dust for you.” He stepped forward as she got braver. Eddie liked to pretend he was a coward, he was good at acting like one, but his natural instinct was to jump right into the fire. “Put it inside of one of those little punching bags. Get your revenge that way. Trust me I saw the body, there wasn’t much left to throttle.”
Then he looked down at his suit, at the burn marks all up and down it. The purple tie that was singed at the end. He gave a small laugh, poking his finger through one of the burnt holes and then shrugged. “I went to light stuff on fire for Garf.” Eddie tried to lift the finger he had in the sleeve of his coat, dragging the arm along with him. “I even brought Crane along and taught him how to smoke a cigar!” Eddie was proud of Crane for finally acting like a man. “Whoops, no I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Not the Crane part, the cigar.” His finger was still digging inside of his sleeve, inching to pop out the otherside as a surprise.
“Oh, because when you get mad, you never do the same, huh? You’ve never hurt someone when you’re angry?” Now Stephanie understood why he was afraid of being her punching bag. The joke, that look, the playfulness in his voice made her want to swing her right hook into the side of his temple. Oh, she could joke with a rogue as much as the next bat, but Eddie wasn’t just some rogue to her. He hadn’t been for more than a year. So, to see him try the bad guy suit on again left an awful taste in her mouth, worse than the copper still stinging her tongue. Sinking her teeth into the tear on the inside of her cheek to give herself something else to focus on, she fought the urge to rip him a new one for daring to step closer. She didn’t move this time, but there was a flicker across her face that told him to back off.
“Oh, really,” she said, sharply and wholly unimpressed with the entire situation. So, not only did he not think about checking in with her, but he was with Crane to boot? Her fingers flexed before balling into fists again, voice rising and sharpening to a knife point. “Well, I’m fucking thrilled that you and Crane are besties again, and you had a wonderful time drinking Gotham’s entire liquor supply, and you burnt whatever you could. I’m so glad.”
Eddie slowly pulled his finger out of the hole like he was removing a splinter and then put his hands in his pockets, leaning on the back of his heels with smiles and nods at everything she said. “I don’t hurt people when I’m angry, not anymore. But, I’m also not a really great liar.” He had thought about putting up a wall and playing out an act for her so she’d have what she wanted. He knew that was the right thing to do because even if Stephanie said she wanted to work everything out with him and talk about everything that he was up to, he knew that wasn’t the case. She wanted him to be good. To stay out of trouble so he’d stay out of Arkham. And, Eddie wished he felt the same. Whenever he entertained the idea of being a good dog, it made him want to go run off to join the Suicide Squad with Selina.
“I’ve just given you plenty of clues. I’ve told you a leeeast three different hints. Practically spelled it out for you and you still have it wrong. I’m disappointed.” He shook his head and he stepped away from her. “I understand. You’re too upset to think. It doesn’t matter where I’m coming from, just that I’m here for you. So,” he flapped his arms, adjusted his tie and stood still. “Here I am. I’m sorry that your brother died. I didn’t believe it at first. It’s not that Robins don’t die all the time, but to happen so quickly at the hands of Firefly was a shock. I wish I was there to hear the news with you. I wish I could have told you myself, but I thought it’d be better if your family broke the news. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” Each sorry sounded more sincere than the last as he pushed away all the things that had troubled him that day for her. After all, wasn’t that what he believed in? Keep Stephanie happy and only ask her for help if his arm got cut off or something similarly extreme.
Eddie pulled his violet glasses out, quickly put them on and then strolled a couple steps as the sound of the training center locking down echoed through the almost empty space. He put them away again and rubbed his hands together. “I changed my mind. I locked the place down so you can’t go turn into the next Red Hood. If you want to mess me up a little, if it helps you’re more than welcome.” He quickly held a hand finger up. “But, I’d honestly prefer it if you’d tell me what happened today. How’s Bruce? Are they going to pit Damian? They shouldn’t. A mix between the injuries he suffered and his bloodline would corrupt him permanently.”
If Eddie asked her, she wouldn’t have said that she just wanted him to be good. She would tell him that she wanted him to be himself, to just feel and live and be him. But, underneath it all, maybe it was right that she just wanted him to be good. After everything that had happened in Arkham, she never, ever wanted him to have to go through that again. She never wanted to go through all of that. Of all of the turmoil in their tumultuous relationship (up to this point), picturing him in the super prison, then in the asylum had been the worst, most heartbreaking thing to her. So, maybe he was right about that, about wanting to just have him be good, but she wanted to know what was going on in his life and inside his head regardless. To be protected like that, even in the guise of a selfless desire to make her happy, would hurt her more than she cared to admit. It meant that he didn’t trust her to be able to handle things, that he could turn to so many other people but couldn’t turn to her. If she found out how much he was actually hiding from her, Stephanie would be heartbroken.
As it were, she was more focused on the fact that Damian had died and that Eddie hadn’t been there for her. “That’s not what I--,” she started, then got cut short as he continued to apologize. Her hand drifted up in an abortive move to grab him, and she fought the urge to just make him hold her. Just bury away all of their problems and concerns and pretend that everything would be okay. It wasn’t, she was sure. Standing in the middle of that empty space as he pulled out those goddamn violet shades, she wasn’t sure that anything would be okay after all of this. She didn’t think he could promise her that either; she wouldn’t want him to lie after all. So, she just rumbled a noise in the back of her throat at his apologies, looking around at the empty room one more time.
“What?” she asked in surprise when he offered himself as a punching bag after all. “Stop being a fucking martyr!” she snapped, frustrated and angry and hurt. She groaned, spun on her heel and stepped away, too. “Of course you want to talk now, don’t you? Bruce is a goddamn wreck, of course. I didn’t see him the entire time I was there. He wouldn’t come out of his room. They left Damian in the cave, they left his body there. I said goodb--.” She cut herself off with a shaky breath, hand pressed to her lips to suppress a sob before she squared her shoulders and slowly turned her head over her shoulder. Shrugging, she leveled a look on him that wasn’t very Stephanie Brown at all. It was too angry, too dead, too hollow. “Why not? It seems to be the fix-all for every other damn thing in this city. Why not use it to bring my baby bird back?”
When she looked over her shoulder at him, Eddie was brimming with that neon green lifeforce. There wasn’t anything dead or used up or burnt in him and really it was almost impossible to hurt him that deep. Even when Muerte died he mourned by trying to outrun it. Even now with Stephanie so hurt and angry, all he wanted to do was use whatever part of him that he could to make it better. In a moment, he didn’t feel like either of them were real people. It didn’t feel like they had spent months together in the same bed laughing at television shows. No, Gotham always had a way to prove they weren’t going to be normal, not ever.
So, he buzzed. Dark eyes hurt that she still wasn’t getting it and fully unaware that the reason why she understood him before was because he told her and guessing was never a factor. “Because it’s not going to be him that comes back.” Eddie said, all the roguish highs dropped in favor that raw nerve he was willing to show her again, even if she’d keep calling him a martyr or stomp all over him. This was what he asked for when he fell in love with a bat, right? “And, he said he didn’t want it. After he died, he said he didn’t want it. Bringing him back would be going against his wishes.”
The fabric holding the bat pin he had been wearing all day finally gave and it suddenly fell to the floor with a clink clank! Eddie looked as though he accidentally tossed his keys into a river and knelt to pick it back up, smoothing his fingers over the metal before slowly reattaching it. The pin through more sturdier fabric, his chin down to make sure that it was even. After everything he did today to take care of Gotham’s overlooked, he always made sure to have that pin on him.
She didn’t understand how he could look so lively and sharp when all she wanted to do was crawl into another bunker and hide from the rest of the world until they all went Aha! It was a joke! But then again, Eddie could always do that, couldn’t he? Infuse humor into the darkest situations no matter what. She liked to think she could bring a little bit of sunshine in, too, but his sort of skill came with age and a wealth of experiences. Times like this proved how young Stephanie still was. Most days, she was mature beyond her years, but there were moments like how she looked at him when she could be so stupidly young. A quick fix was all she wanted, and that flashed in her hurting blue eyes.
“But things are different now. I know he said it before, but things are different now! He’s dead!” Stomping her foot like a child, she paced away from him, arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t even realize at first that he said after he died, and clearly that was preposterous. “You didn’t give Dick the decision, why do you even care now?” She wondered what the opinion on the matter at hand was with the rest of the family. Obviously, if she had a clearer head, she would immediately agree with Eddie about it all, but she just wanted her baby brother back. Was that too much to ask? If some green goop could do the trick, then why the fuck wouldn’t she do it.
Slowly, very slowly, his words clicked into place. “Wait.” She turned her entire body around this time instead of just craning her neck. “What do you mean, ‘after he died’? What does that mean?” The way she asked was fearful of what his answer could be. Because, oh, she knew what it could mean.
Eddie ran a single finger over the length of the bat wings when she asked him why he cared and looked up at her in surprise. He expected all kinds of questions and accusations, but by now she surely should have figured out where his heart and loyalty was? He wondered if this was how Selina felt, the old Selina from his Gotham who could break all trust by uttering one little word. “Hush.” He muttered so softly she couldn’t hear him, eyes wide as he tried to keep his mind from stretching in all the terrible directions it could. Was it possible that he had told her all these things, told her the plain truth about how he felt and still after all this time his true motivations were a mystery to her? It seemed that way.
It didn’t change how he felt about the bat pinned to his chest and no bile bubbled up from his stomach. He only felt like one giant question mark. “How could you not-” He tried to say, but that too was so soft that the noise barely traveled across the space between them. Eddie rubbed the back of his head, eyeing her like she had just sprouted a horn and thought about leaving. Even if Stephanie killed some goons today, even if she went over the deep end. No, he couldn’t do that. Eddie took one false step away from her and then stopped.
“Riddle me this. Who is the only being that can speak to you after you’re already dead?” Eddie asked and looked at her as if to say that one thing she thought it could be was right. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore than he already had, but Eddie was having a hard time believing this was the same girl he poured his heart out to in the first place. “I needed answers about Firefly and Selina told me to-” He made a motion with his hands like that was a different story.
She caught that look of surprise, and for a second, her expression softened, eyes cleared, and she looked apologetic for making him doubt her. She believed in him, obviously she did. She couldn’t be with him if she didn’t believe in him. Didn’t he know that by now? But the Stephanie who stood there in the middle of that training room wasn’t his usual blonde bat. She was still there under the surface of hurt and anger, of course, but Gotham’s ray of sunshine couldn’t break through the cloudiness of grief. She had just lost her baby brother; how did he expect her to act? Yeah, when Muerte had died, he tried to hide away from it all. Stephanie just didn’t work like that.
Steph’s heart and stomach clenched when he stepped towards her, and she shook her head, fingers still pressed to her lips. An apology lost in translation because of course she believed in him. Didn’t he believe in her? “Eddie, I--.” But, she didn’t get to finish her apology. He wouldn’t get that apology from her after admitting to seeing Muerte. Her hand fell away from her mouth slowly, and her eyes flashed sharpness that was different from the anger she had for Damian’s death. His loss, the grief, that anger was more frustration that she couldn’t do a goddamn thing to change it. He would never come back.
This? This was pure betrayal. The blonde bat didn’t actually say a word. Just crossed her arms, dug her fingers into her padded arms, and closed her eyes with a shuddering sigh. Then, after a second, she nodded, as if she finally understood everything going on in the world. The quiet was more dangerous than her lashing out at him, and she let it linger and linger and linger.
Eddie barely looked at her now. The night started off with fierce stares from both the blonde bat and riddled man, but now he wouldn’t look at her face. Her shoulder, that blonde hair, her boots. Never her face. Not out of guilt, because deep down Eddie knew Muerte needed a friend and he was the only one that could be there for her. No, it was more out of confusion. His brow furrowed as he tried to work out how he managed to get everything wrong so far and decided that if he really wanted to put Stephanie before himself, he had to throw away his own pain and pride.
It wasn’t an easy thing to do. He took his coat off delicately and folded it noiselessly in the lingering silence from her, he loosened his ruined tie and let it fall to the floor and he closed the gap between them. His fingers resting on her pointed elbows, eyes down at her hands. “She made sure Damian went peacefully. It took everything she had to do it. She has no reason to care about him or your family, but she does. Why is it so hard for the bats to understand the rest of us love you all so damned much even if we don’t get anything for it.” There was no grip to his hold on her elbows, light fingers that could be brushed off if she wanted to.
“I got wrapped up in my side of Gotham today. I saw something I’m having a hard time accepting. But, I’m here now. If you just let me back in, I’m here.” His voice was soft and pleading. The smell of smoke and Gotham was still on him, but going toe-to-toe with her sobered him up. Not enough to understand her or what she had said to him or really the extent of what either of them had done, but enough to push that aside to be there.
If Stephanie was as rational as Eddie could be, there might not have been a problem at all about tonight. At least not as big as it was now. Because, frankly, Eddie was right, too. He had a round of obligations that he needed to check in on, and she did have her family there for her. She didn’t know what it was like to be truly alone, at least not lately. That was one thing she would never get about Eddie -- the rogue politics, the code among thieves. How he could go to Muerte before even considering coming to his blonde bat to make sure she was okay? Why hadn’t that crossed his mind first? It was betrayal she felt when he forgave Muerte all those months ago, so soon after the entity stopped her heart. It was heartache and pain and hurt that was so different from the pain of losing Damian.
Eyes still closed tight and fingers digging into her arms, she didn’t realize that he started stepping towards her until she felt his delicate grasp on her elbows. Any other time, it might be a comfort, but she just felt an electric shock of despair and the desperate need to step away with him. She did, a quick rock back on her heels and closed eyes and a lip bite, and she couldn’t muster up the words to capture how she felt. “Eddie,” she said softly, mournfully. Maybe he didn’t know that a Robin was killed until Muerte, she hoped, but then why didn’t he come to her immediately? Why didn’t he come to her when he first heard about Firefly? She always wanted to help him. Partners, that’s what they were. Or at least she thought.
After a string of moments where she didn’t actually know what she was going to do, Stephanie slowly opened up her eyes and looked down at the floor. “You don’t understand. You’re not getting how much it hurts right now,” she murmured, voice straining against tears, and she shook her head. “You saw her, and you didn’t come to me. Why didn’t you come to me first, huh?”
His fingers didn’t drop when she rocked back and instead moved to touch whatever skin he could. The top of her wrists would have to do. “Baby, I know.” He didn’t think she understood, either, but he knew whatever he was going through wasn’t anything near this angry version of the blonde bat he loved. “I don’t understand. I can’t.” His hands moved to hold her shoulders in an attempt to get her to look at him. “But, I can make it a little better. You have to let me try-”
Eddie stopped when the tone changed and she went back to Muerte. He shook his head. “I didn’t know Robin was dead, okay? I knew my buddy Garf was and I figured you weren’t going to be that interested in investigating a rogue death. I went to go check out the crime scene, I talked to Nancy. You remember Nancy and Jessica? They saw Robin and I had a bad feeling. Plus, Muerte’s home is a drop off point for Selina. I had stuff to give her.” All rational reasonings as far as Eddie was concerned. “When she told me, I thought it’d be better if Bruce told you. I thought you’d be with your family. And, Garf-” He let her go suddenly and shrugged. Stephanie didn’t care about Garf. No one did and no one was going to beyond wanting to bring him back so they could kill him again. Maybe everyone else in Gotham could separate Eddie from the rest of the rogue gallery. It wasn’t that easy for him. When Eddie looked down at the dead Garf before they burned his body, he kept seeing dark brown eyes staring right back at him.
Stephanie whined when he touched the top of her wrist, and she jerked back like he’d burned her before immediately murmuring an apology. But, she still wrapped her arms around her body as if to protect herself from him trying to worm his way back into her heart. She attempted to shrug the hands on her shoulders, too, but it was pathetic sort of attempt because the truth of the matter was that all she wanted was for Eddie to make it a little better. Even if it was impossible, even if he broke one of his promises, she only wanted him to numb the pain for a little bit. It wasn’t that simple though, and the idea of Eddie mourning with Muerte turned her stomach. It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t right. But, maybe this was part of being in love with a rogue -- having to learn to cope on your own.
“Stop assuming things about me, god,” she whispered sharply before finally looking up to him. “That’s what you keep doing, Eddie. You keep assuming things that I want or don’t want. I don’t know if it’s your ego or some fucked up way of protecting me or yourself, but stop it! Just talk to me.” She flapped her hands, desperate for him to understand why what he did felt so wrong to her. They used to talk everything out, no matter how small or stupid or hurtful, so why weren’t they doing that now? Their foundation was crumbling right in front of them, and they needed to fix it. “You know, you know that whenever you’re in trouble, I’m here to help you. Whenever you need something, I want to be there. So fuck you for going to her, no matter what your reasons are. You promised you were done with her. Didn’t you? Didn’t you?” Her voice cracked at the end, teeth bitten down on a wibbling lip. She turned to the side and wiped away the wet streaks on her face.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” she said all of a sudden, because she was sorry Eddie was upset. She would never begrudge him that.
Eddie didn’t try to talk over her, mouth pressed in a straight line as if to show respect for what she was saying. The gears were ticking behind his eyes and there was an obvious attempt to stop them or at least turn them in a way that would please her. Eddie couldn’t though. He couldn’t tell himself to stop thinking. Hell, no one could. “I didn’t know if that’s what you still wanted.” Eddie said after a moment. “I thought you wanted to be happy. And, we were happy from the moment I got out to right now. Weren’t we?” Even if he wasn’t telling her everything anymore, he was happy. Living with her was the best kind of therapy he could ask for after getting out of Arkham. “Every time I hinted to something, you always seemed exhausted by it. People my whole life get exhausted by me and I didn’t want you-”
He sighed when she turned to wipe her eyes and he ran his hands through his now completely messed up hair. Eddie wanted to tell her that it wasn’t Garf he was upset about. He didn’t really give a damn if some C-Lister died. It was how he went. It was how easily it could have been him. It was knowing something about the Dark Knight he could never forget about. “Thanks.” Eddie said anyway, not really in the mood to spell it out for her. “But, honestly he’s got nothing on your brother.” Eddie shook his shoulders, killing the sudden idea that he’d trade himself for Damian if it made Stephanie any happier. That was easily the dumbest thought he had all day, despite the idiot sincerity with it.
“Of course I was happy,” Stephanie implored, daring to take a step towards him. “Of course I was, Eddie. I had you back again.” And, really at the end of the day, having Eddie would always make her happy, even when he managed to hurt her so badly. He was the love of her life, and god did she know what kind of messiness would come with that. But, for all the lowest lows, there were the highest highs, too, and the love he gave her made it worth it all. That didn’t mean she wasn’t hurting now though, or that she wasn’t pissed about Muerte. “But, I’ve told you so many times I want all of you. Okay? I fucking need that still. Look at us! We’re happy but I feel like you don’t trust me anymore. Do you know what that feels like? Because it’s goddamn awful.”
Wiping the fresh tears again, she stared at him for a few beats. “I didn’t mean to sound exhausted,” she said, sniffling and biting back a sob. Fat, wet streaks continued to drip down her cheek though. “I’m sorry if I did.” For a moment, she paused. She was waiting for him to apologize for seeing Muerte, but there was a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t do that which had her stomach clenching. Eventually, however, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him like he was her lifeboat.
Eddie opened his mouth to tell her that if she thought he didn’t trust her, then she didn’t know him. And, if they didn’t have trust and knowledge between them anymore, what did they have? He couldn’t muster it, though, not with her walls finally coming down. He gulped back a sarcastic response at her half-hearted apology and simply wrapped his arms around her as she came in for a hug. He didn’t know what to do. It might have been the most awkward hug he ever had with her and Eddie didn’t know those were possible. He was always such a natural at most things, even physical things. Why was this suddenly so difficult? Eventually, he loosened up his shoulders and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Smelling the salt of her skin as he closed his eyes to try and push out all the hurt.
“I want a mulligan.” He pushed his forehead against her shoulder. “I want one. Give me a mulligan, baby. Give me the best one you got. We can go get cleaned up, hold each other in bed and talk until you can’t anymore. It’ll be the best mulligan you’ve ever seen, please baby.”
The stiffness felt so strange, so unnatural, and Stephanie tensed in his arms, too. Why couldn’t they just be themselves? What had changed that made this feel weird? She knew exactly what it was though, didn’t she. It was Firefly and Damian standing between them, invisible forces of guilt and rage and grief or whatever else that made their walls hard to crack. Still, she choked out a sob when he finally settled into the embrace and dug her fingers into his shoulder blades as she burrowed her face into his chest. Nose resting on his slightly exposed collarbone. He smelled like his cologne, the sharp scent of alcohol, and a burning piece of Gotham, and the combination made her nose wrinkle. But, that was her Eddie. All those pieces mixed together to intermingle in whatever chaos it wrought.
She whimpered when he asked for a mulligan, something that brought her back to innocent times of their relationship when the most they had to worry over was whether the batfamily might react poorly. Her hands ran up and down his back, ruching in the fabric of his shirt now and then. “One mulligan,” she murmured finally against his skin, eyes closed and fingers twisting into his shirt.
The tension from his body shuddered out of him when she granted him the mulligan. Even if he didn’t expect her to say no to his request, Eddie was the kind of man who kept that last line of defense up until he was certain he didn’t need it anymore. He exhaled messily, hand reaching up to tangle his fingers through her blonde hair as he rocked her in his arms. Eddie had been here before at least two times before and it ended with him having to leave. He couldn’t do that tonight. He was sure there wouldn’t have been any pieces to pick up.
Eddie turned his face to kiss her jaw and then leaned back to look at her. “Do you want to go home?” He was too exhausted to make that distinction between her apartment and home. It was all for show, anyway. For Eddie, it didn’t take long for her place to feel like their place and he started saying our instead of your.
She whimpered again as his fingers slid into her hair, and she pressed kisses against the skin her lips rested on. She was still so angry, fury pulsing through her blood and shaking up her brain so that she could barely thing, but the blonde bat tried to lose herself in her riddled man’s arms. Tried her hardest to bury away the anger, compartmentalize the betrayal she still felt caused by Eddie’s choices that day. But, as much as she could say that she might hate him, she didn’t. Time and time again, no matter what he did, she couldn’t do it. That didn’t mean what he did didn’t hurt, of course, and she needed him so desperately right then that if he left, it might make it muster up some of that hate.
The fabric of his shirt twisted hard in her hands as she failed to bite away another sob. Stephanie didn’t notice how odd it was that he called it home either. There had been enough slip-ups in the past couple of months that it seemed like right to say. Nodding against his chest, agree that yes, she wanted to go home, she murmured, “I just want this to not be real, baby. Why is this all happening?” A rhetorical question, something she didn’t expect him to have the answer to. All she wanted him to promise was to make it okay for a little bit, but she wasn’t even sure he could promise that.
Eddie didn’t have an answer for why except this was Gotham and that wasn’t a good explanation at all. He felt like he was on the outside of things and despite his usual pride in being part rogue, a part of him wished he was one of the bats so he could be on her side about this. He wished the thought of some dumb bird dying was emotionally wrecking enough that he’d be on the same page as Stephanie. He sighed and shook his head, tangling his face into her hair and whispered a couple I don’t knows into her shoulder.
He asked her to come home with him, picked up his coat and the ruined tie and didn’t unlock the training center until they were both at the door. Eddie kept his hand on the small of her back, as if he expected her to grapple off the second she got a whiff of that Gotham air. When she didn’t, Eddie breathed a small sigh and slowly pulled his puzzle mind back together.