nashtons - sleepy hollow (pt 1) WHO The Nashtons. WHAT Meeting in Sleepy Hollow. (Pt 1 of 2) WHEN After this, and before this WHERE Tales, Sleepy Hollow. WARNING ghosties. sads? so much sads.
Clip clop, clip clop.
A chestnut colored stallion galloped through rickety woods, spindling branches hanging overhead like hands reaching out to snatch and deter the stead and its rider. The darkness was near stifling, and only a lone oil lantern lit the uneven path through the barren trees. An autumnal chill filled the air, goosebumps rising on the arm of the blonde riding on that stallion’s back. Or maybe that was the slight uneasiness she felt? The spookiness of traveling through the Tales door at night and thinking of a ghost story sent a chill up her spine. She couldn’t help stealing a few glances over her shoulder to look for a headless horseman or some other sinister ghostly figure, and she gripped the reins tighter, heart racing just a touch. Her blonde hair spilled out behind her in a wavy golden curtain, and her skin looked just a little paler in the flickers of moonlight that snuck between entwined branches above-head.
Stephanie didn’t focus on how much her heart hurt after her conversation with Eddie. She didn’t focus on how scared, even more scared than the possibility of a spectre chasing her in these woods, the listlessness in her husband made her. And, she definitely didn’t try to focus on that lick of jealousy that he turned to Muerte instead of herself. He had every right to, of course, and it said more about her than him that he couldn’t turn to her. She wasn’t providing for him enough. She wasn’t his partner anymore. Maybe he needed to find another one in the meantime.
But she didn’t focus on any of that. She focused on the beat of hooves underneath her, the weight of the lantern in her hand, the heat of burning oil radiating on her skin. The thrill of (probably not but possibly) being chased.
The woods split to show a quiet village, and Stephanie pulled on the reins to slow her horse, Amadeus, down to a trot. She hoped this was the right place, but for some reason she could tell this was it. The only inn in town was bustling and invitingly warm from the outside. She slowed to a stop in front, dismounting with a slide, and she tethered the horse to a mount in front of the inn. “Good boy,” she murmured, rubbing Amadeus’s neck before climbing up the steps to go inside. She was Regency purple and riding boots as she smoothed her hair down. Nothing like the cheerful Christmas glow from Halloweentown. Here was a different Tim Burton-esque monster that left her paler with a faint glow of gold from her hair, almost as if everything was in a strange sepia tone. Though her tattoos were still missing, melted away when she stepped through the door, some of her scars reappeared. That dark pink one on her neck peaked out beyond the high collar of her dress. And as she stood there in the doorway underneath the glow of candles and glanced around for her husband, she tried to keep focusing on anything else beyond that faint flicker of concern in her stomach.
Eddie was in better spirits. The summoning Crane from the dead thing was a total bust, sure, but it was exciting to see how much his powers could do. At the time he wasn’t sure what went wrong. Maybe it was because Crane didn’t die in this door, maybe it was because Crane was alive. Now, after taking notes and remembering that guttural empty feeling that didn’t usually come along with summoning spirits, he thought it had something to do with the Crane that Selina killed being beyond the hotel. So, the magic got wonky and started to pull in to make up for the missing soul. It didn’t confirm or deny that Crane was back. Eddie wasn’t sure if he really cared. All that mattered to him was that he saw something he couldn’t quite explain.
The inn’s main area was a tavern where people drank and worked and had meals. Eddie was in the back with a dripping candle burning on his table as he took notes in his journal. There was noticeably a lack of alcohol. Only some stale bread on a wooden plate and a single feather close to the journal. Eddie liked the process of writing down the riddles he had used, along with general notes and thoughts about what had transpired. Being a warlock, a necromancer was built for him. Eddie knew this was something he was working his whole life to be.
“Frrnnal- mmmrer- no that isn’t it.” He tried to sound out those ancient words Muerte had hissed at the pit. He thought about asking her about it later, but he wondered if it was too intrusive. If she wouldn’t tell him. The words were like a darkness you could only see from the corner of your eye. Something he couldn’t shake. He wanted to know even though he never would. Eddie held up the single feather next to his journal so he could see the vane and barbs in the glowing light. His mind wandered pleasantly and he caught sight of Stephanie at the door.
“Over here!” He called and a few turned their heads, but not many. Eddie seemed like an eccentric and that was enough for people to avoid him. Eddie set the feather down carefully and stood up to greet her. Eddie was still dressed in that green though everything seemed a bit unkept. The jacket was on the back of his chair and both of his sleeves were rolled up. Eddie gave her a once over and smiled like had forgotten those terrible things they were admitting to each other before. “Love the outfit.”
Stephanie’s gaze snapped to the familiar voice, and she couldn’t help the smile that flickered across her face. Despite all the awful things they had said to each other, she loved her husband desperately. More than she loved herself. She swept over to the corner, dodging through tables to reach his wax-covered one. She didn’t notice the other people gawking for a second when he called her out. She only focused on him, how he looked in the glow of candlelight.
“I try,” she said with a continuing, but slight smile, curtsying in front of him for added effect. Leaning forward, she kissed him on cheek for a lingering moment, eyes drifting shut. She pulled back, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together, not daring to be any more affectionate without his okay first. She wasn’t sure if they were okay. But she brushed her thumb on the back of his hand, and she tugged once. “Now that I know you like this, maybe I’ll have to keep it.”
Eddie smirked at the curtsy and leaned into the kiss to his cheek. “Don’t get too excited. I have a feeling that could double as a curtain.” He teased and brought their tangled fingers up to kiss before letting them go. Eddie pulled her chair out for her in street rat flourish like a poor man pretending to be very wealthy before taking a seat next to her. He looked over his journal, the notes and then closed it, hand over the worn leather as he looked to her. The question What Now? raced through his brain. Honestly, he didn’t know. Small talk? They could do small talk, right?
“Did you find the town easily enough?” Eddie asked and there was a certain air of politeness and civility that he used with most people he didn’t know very well. It was the tone he had when he troubled a waitress for a new spoon or checked on his Justice League people. Pleasant. It wasn’t even forced, since he generally had pretty good day after he was finished speaking to her. “Did you see my horse out there? The big black one. Bart. I like him a lot. Though, I don’t think I have the heart to take him-” Eddie gave a suspicious look around the tavern. “Out to the woods.” He couldn’t outright say ghost hunting, though no one was really listening anyway.
The tease eased the tension in her shoulders for a second, and she recognized that street-rat flourish as he pulled the chair out for her. Flickers of the man she knew there, even if they both knew that there was distance between them. There had been distance between them since she shot an arrow into the sky and their whole existence on Earth-3 blinked away into nothingness, dropping them back into a world that they hadn’t known for years and years. Eddie was right. He and Stephanie were both different people than they were back during the war. They were post-war soldiers trying to find out what that fucking meant for both of them.
Knowing that didn’t make things any easier though. She tried not to be angry with herself, but it came easily now. Even more easily than it had before. Blame was so simple to her, especially when it came to throwing it on herself. “I did. That wood is creepy as fuck, baby.” She smiled slightly, brave bat unnerved by haunted woods. “Oh, that’s yours? Yeah, he’s gorgeous. I tied my horse next to him actually. Chestnut, his name is Amadeus. Obviously not named by me. I would’ve named him something incredibly twenty-first century or Disney-fied. Philippe, probably, like Maurice’s horse in Beauty and the Beast.” Steph smiled softly, chin resting on her palm as her elbow was propped up on the rickety wooden table.
“How you remember all those names from Disney movies, I’ll never know.” Eddie smiled back at her and picked at the piece of bread in front of him. His finger digged into the crust as he realized he didn’t really have much else to say to her except give a debriefing of his day. He figured that was a good enough topic and looked back up at her. “Muerte and I tried to bring Crane back. Well, I tried. Muerte watched to make sure I didn’t get sucked into some sort of vortex.” He offered a flimsy smile. His afternoon with Muerte was honest and even if it was riddled with a panic attack and a soul sucking black hole, he had a good time. Eddie wished it was that easy with Stephanie. He wished they could be comfortable around each other again.
“It turned out alright. All I did was summon some church mice that died.” Eddie shrugged and exhaled softly. “Still no conclusive evidence that Crane is back. All signs point to yes, however. I didn’t- well I didn’t feel anything when I tried. Usually there’s a strong presence. Sort of like that emotion you get when you hear a song you like. It makes me think those ashes were empty.” He still wasn’t sure how that all worked with the hotel magic, but that was as close to reason as he was going to get that night.
“It’s my one tiny piece of genius. Trivial Disney knowledge. Really useful in practical situations, I know.” Stephanie rolled her eyes at herself, self-deprecating in the worst way lately, but there were worse things in the world, like the awkward silence that followed her comment. She worried her lip for a moment, stomach plummeting at a rapid pace before she could help herself, before he filled the silence mercifully. Biting back a sigh of relief, she nodded. “I know. I saw what you wrote to Bruce.” And she hid that hurt away as much as possible, the hurt that spoke to him going to everyone else before her. She understood why, of course, but that didn’t dull the twist of pain in her chest.
She cradled her cheek in her palm, attention fully on him, and she couldn’t resist the urge to take his hand and pull it into her lap. “I’m glad she was there with you,” she told him, not an ounce of bitterness or jealousy in it. “You were probably the safest you could be.” Her thumb skated across the back of his hand. It was clear that she was desperate to salvage their connection, and physicality always came easiest with them (except, of course, when it didn’t). She frowned, however, at the Crane’s status. “You think maybe it’s a different one then? There’ve been so many different ones of him, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Eddie was silently glad that she wasn’t spitting with jealousy over Muerte. He didn’t want her to get between the married couple and he also didn’t want to lose his friend again. The riddled man felt that moment of loss when he thought that he had accidentally lead Muerte to her demise. He didn’t want to lose her all over again. Even if she still was edgy over the Lazarus Pit incident that happened all those years ago. Eddie believed that was something they could leave in the past. “She understands this stuff a lot more than I do. I’m surrounded by people who know more about my abilities. Five years ago? That would have driven me insane.”
Eddie smiled when she took his hand and squeezed her fingers. “I had a dream with Crane. If it’s him, then it’s a different one. Older. Stupid. So very, very stupid. He tried to tell me the mask was for therapy reasons only.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Those crows never learn. What I should have done was tell him that his place in Arkham was set up and waiting and that we all loved him. Much easier to put him in a cell that way.” But, of course, Eddie wanted to poke and prod and give this Crane a chance to be something new. Something he had never seen before. Eddie wanted to believe in the impossible. He wanted to see someone change the way he did so he could believe his own reformation was for good.
Stephanie smiled gently. “She kind of seems like the perfect person to go to for this.” Again, no malice. Sure, there may have been a lick of jealousy that Eddie turned to Muerte instead of her for help, but she could see the reasons. Not just because the Nashtons were on the rocks, but for practicality, too. Who better to help with necromancy than Death herself? “Five years ago, we were both different people, Eddie.” Left at that. Her face shifted, chin replacing cheek on her palm, and she looked down at his hand in her lap. Thoughtfully tracing his wedding ring as if she was trying to make sure it was still real or testing if he’d taken it off at any point. She knew he hadn’t, but she allowed herself that momentary flicker of weakness and doubt before mentally chastising herself.
Her eyebrow quirked up, and she glanced back up at Eddie again. “Did you? What was it about?” She knew dreams were different here, in this hotel; they’d had a shared one themselves once before after all. A laugh bubbled out, jerking the attention of nearby tables over, and she rolled her eyes, too. Crane was probably one of the most predictable of the rogues, at least in this Gotham. No matter which one came, they all had the same song-and-dance. And Steph knew what her husband was searching for. A companion in reformation. She squeezed his fingers and shot him a sympathetic look. “I mean, you never know if one’s going to come by that’s completely different. It’s possible, I’m sure.”
Eddie shrugged. “I dream differently now. Most of the spirits want to talk to me while I’m asleep. I don’t know why. I assume it’s easier to poke around. So, a majority of my night is listening to them, figuring out if we can help each other and then reaching out for others.” It sounded like work on paper, but the way Eddie talked about it was similar to how he described computers or architecture. He liked the mystery of it, the brain work even when he was dreaming. Still, he talked rapid fire because he figured they were details that bored her. Frankly, joking or not, he didn’t know what part of his personality she didn’t like anymore. If that really was a joke or it was just easy to say because it was true. “Crane walked into my office, I have an office when I dream, and he was- well his charming self.” He glanced down at the ring on his finger that she was playing with before. A wedding ring that he had made himself and he couldn’t help but feel like July was a long time ago.
“I don’t think Crane changes. I think it’s a one in a million chance. This one seemed horrified by the Scarecrow I knew, the one we both knew a long time ago. So, that’s something.” Eddie used to like rogues with a disregard for human life and sanity. He wasn’t the guy anymore. As much as he liked how Crane’s mind worked, he’d always hate what he did to people. “I told him to go after the mob if he wants to do experiments and he balked at me. What nerve that idiot has.” He brushed his fingers over her purple ring and then took his hands out of her lap to fold under his chin in thought with his elbows resting on the table. He hmmmmed, thinking and then looked at her. “No one gives a damn what happens to the mob in Gotham. Not one of the heroes. Has it always been that way?”
“Have you asked Muerte about it? Maybe she knows why. I’m sure it has to do with what’s happened to you -- with your powers.” She thought about suggesting a way to find out how to lock out his dreams. Something like Occlumency from Harry Potter, right? But, she caught the curiosity in his voice and decided not to press the issue. “If it starts to bother you, if you can’t sleep at night -- you’ll tell me, right?” There was the hint of doubt in her voice, wonder over whether or not he would. If he would bury it away, or worse: turn to someone else instead of her. She knew there were walls between them, and she knew there was a mountain of issues to overcome, but she never wanted him to suffer in silence. Not when she was sleeping right next to him.
A noise rumbled out from beyond Steph’s throat, and she huffed a little. “What an asshole,” she mumbled, sitting up a little straighter when he took his hand from her. She considered something for a moment, then shrugged. “There’s that one chance, then. The one in a million. That could be it. He could finally be it.” Because people surely would say that about him, right? That it was one in a million for the Riddler to reform. But here he was. One in a million. No one could deny that. His question had her chew her lip in thought. “I think everyone’s exhausted. It didn’t used to be like that. But-- well, Bruce is still just getting to be himself, Dick is so worn thin he might snap any second, and me?” She scoffed with bemusement. “Well I’m just a fucking mess.” She waved her hand dismissively. That wasn’t the point of the conversation. “We should be doing something about that. But what are we supposed to do when we’re all burned out?”
Eddie frowned at her concern. “No, I like it. It’s good.” And, he wondered if that was why she was insisting that he tell her if things went bad. If he was naturally attracted to things that weren’t good for him or he’d get lost in his own mind. Maybe she was right about part of that. “It’s good. I don’t think necromancer is the right term. There’s something about the spirits that-” Eddie cut himself off, not wanting to take her down that rabbit hole. Again, not interested in boring her. “But- yes of course I’ll tell you if it gets bad. I don’t think I’d be able to avoid it with you sleeping next to me.” He tried his best to assure her with a half hearted smile.
The stuff about the mob was interesting to him, though. He wondered if they’d do anything even if they weren’t messed up. “Which is the same reason why no one stopped Jason when he went on a killing spree after your brother died. It seems odd, that’s all. I used to think that if I slipped up and killed someone, the bats would come down on me hard. But, they wouldn’t, would they? If it was someone who smuggled or cheated or lied or stole, who cares?” Eddie wasn’t trying to be aggressive, he was just curious. Curious had been the best way to describe him lately. “Anyway, I suppose it doesn’t matter. That serial killer is going to clean up the streets all by his lonesome at this rate. We’re just here to wait for the next big crisis.” He didn’t care for the thought of that, but Stephanie was right. The entire batfamily was fucked and the League had their own problems to worry about.
Steph just nodded. “Okay. I trust you.” It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Eddie to know when things were bad, or to back off when he knew things were bad. It was more a vulnerable moment. A needed assurance that he would still turn to her if he needed or wanted to. Eddie had a catalog of people that understood him in different ways, and her biggest fear was that he didn’t need her anymore. That he would find other people to fill each role she had in his life until she just disappeared, until she was completely useless. It was irrational in a way, she knew, but that didn’t stifle her concern. And the way he cut himself off didn’t help either. “That what?” she asked of those spirits, genuine concern and curiosity in her face and voice. He could tell the difference, she was sure of it. She shook her head, smiling gently. “You know what I mean, Eddie.” Just because they shared a marital bed didn’t mean they weren’t miles and miles apart from one another. They both knew that.
She drummed her fingers on the table. “I don’t think so. Honestly? I don’t think so.” Drum, drum, drum. “But then again, if I saw Dick starting to slaughter mobsters because he was stressed, I obviously would be more worried.” She looked at Eddie, hoping he understood what she meant. She and Eddie? They’d taken lives on Earth-3, and if either of them were given the chance to kill certain people from back there, she was sure they’d both be capable of it. And Jason came with his own baggage. Even Damian was capable of near immeasurable cruelty sometimes. But if Dick or Babs began to fill the streets with blood? Even Bruce? That’d be a different story.
“I don’t know if I’m okay enough to have empathy for them,” she said of the thugs, raw, brutal honesty in her blues. After a second, after worrying her lip puffy, she turned away to stare at the inn’s walls. “I don’t want it to be like that, for us to just give up. Let someone else clean this place up especially in such a brutal way. I want us to fucking save Gotham ourselves. We were so good at it for a while, weren’t we?” She rubbed her eye in frustration, huffing just a touch. The silence that followed lingered for a second, then suddenly she spoke again, as if she just remembered what she wanted to say. “I’m trying in other ways. Those clinics, they’re going well. Selina even gave me one she had in the East End.” She took a piece of his bread and began tearing it into crumbs. “I don’t want us to lose hope in Gotham. The city doesn’t deserve it. We don’t deserve to give up on it. Or on ourselves.” It was uncharacteristically hopeful of her, as of late, but here she was. Dropping the H word. Hope. Digging it up from somewhere in the vestiges of what little of it she had left.
“Well, Dick is a mess right now. I’m almost glad I’m stuck here. He hasn’t tried to message me or even check to see if I’ve been possessed by spirits. He’s fucked. We all are. I know that.” Eddie frowned and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back legs as he crossed his arms over his chest in thought. “You don’t have to feel any empathy for them. I don’t and I’ve seen all the fucked up ways they died. Besides, what could I do? I can’t leave here and when I get back I don’t know if the first thing I want to do is fuck around with some people who died in extraordinary ways.” Logical, as always.
And, Eddie was about to remind her about the clinics and how well they were doing when she did it for him. There was a smile on his face, a very faint one. She sounded proud of what she was doing and he thought she should be. The clinics were helping the city more than crime fighting ever could. “I think Gotham is doing fine. I mean, the mob is getting slaughtered, but that’s just how things go. I’ve always said that Bruce Wayne could save the city a lot faster if he used his money to create jobs and safety nets. What you’re doing is good work. It’s saving the city in a way the bats never will. Wayne could have done it years ago. But, he’s too busy playing Batman, right? We all are. I should never have left the door. I should have been working with Mac to become a good version of Lex Luthor instead of turning myself into a medicated drunk like my father. But, I haven’t. I’m selfish and so is everyone else in Gotham. It’s how we survive and I don’t think it’s all that bad in small doses.” Eddie used to be a lot more selfish, that much was true. But, if he wasn’t just a little, he’d be miserable. He wouldn’t be Eddie anymore.
Steph knew it was bad, but she didn’t know it was that bad with Dick. “I think I should check on him. Do you think I should check on him? Or give him space?” She hadn’t talked to him in some time, and frankly she’d been a little hurt at the lack of concern given about she and Eddie, about the fact that she couldn’t have children, but that was all swept under the rug at a moment’s notice. “I should check in on all of them.” She’d been neglectful of it as of late, the worst sister ever. But, she’d been lost in her spiral of depression and loneliness. She couldn’t find her way out to check in on her family, but she knew it’d be prudent to do so immediately.
She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see the faint smile on her lips, and that earned one of her own. She was proud of the clinics. Whenever she was in Gotham, she was checking in on them, meticulously going over supplies or paperwork or new staff. Making sure that they had everything they could ever want or need. She’d drawn a couple of nurses from the VA who wanted to help, including Jen, the nurse she’d become closest with, who’d come to her wedding and even gotten charmed by Eddie. She was tough and smart as a whip, but still kind. She was what Stephanie would be if she ever did get the training to be a nurse herself, and Steph knew that Jen was the right person to help cultivate these beacons of assistance and hope within the darkest, most dangerous areas in Gotham.
After a moment, she shrugged. “I want to save Gotham. I want to keep fighting crime and putting bad guys away, but it’s feeling more and more like a sick, fucked up cycle sometimes.” And she didn’t even think of the parallels he could draw to his own story. She brushed the crumbs of bread off on her dress and rubbed her eye again. “We can’t be city-saving machines. We’re fucking humans. We’re going to be selfish. I’m so selfish lately,” she confessed, looking at him fully again as if daring him to contradict or confirm. But before he could speak, she continued. “None of us have gotten a chance to heal from all the pain we’ve been through the last couple of months, and that’s made us all into selfish monsters. Some more than others.” She waved at herself at that. It wasn’t seeking or needling. She knew that even though she was so fucked in the head sometimes she couldn’t think straight, she had been woefully selfish the last couple of months. With her time, with her love, with everything. Her husband felt the need to distance himself, she barely even knew what was going on with her family, her friendships (what little she had) seemed fake and only face-value, and her city was only just starting to heal. “Selfishness is good, but I’ve been awful.”
Eddie glanced down at the feather next to his journal. It was black, long enough to belong to some sort of giant eagle and it gave off that static feeling of magic. He remembered snatching it from the air and finding it heavier than a normal feather. Almost warm to the touch like the ankh that Muerte had given him. To Eddie, it was a symbol of who he was now. He felt changed, he really did and he believed that it was going to be for the better. His marital problems had dragged him so, so far down that he couldn’t see the surface of the murky water he was swimming in. But, he found the shore. He found it while Stephanie was still sinking. And, he wondered if it was his husbandly duty to jump back in after her. He wondered if he could do it.
“You should poke at him. Let him know you’re thinking about him. I think that’ll help. After this, I’m going to steal those antlers for Barbara. I want her to know she’s just as welcome in this family as everyone else.” The bitterness was gone. He wanted her to be Oracle. It pushed him to be more, just like these powers did. He listened to her talk about selfishness and saw that way she pricked needles at herself. Eddie frowned disapprovingly, though he knew there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
“I’m giving up drinking. For good.” Eddie said after a moment, brushing his fingers across the soft, warm feather and then turned to look at her. “It doesn’t mean you have to stop drinking and I don’t think I have a problem. I just forsee things getting worse if I continue on. Way back when Batman first showed up? I was a drunk. In one of my lives. I was an idiot, babbling drunk who cried when I heard- no- told good riddles. I want to be sharp again. I miss being sharp.” Eddie already seemed to be sharpening his points. He was quicker and in another month, he’d be better than he was on Earth-3. He knew that. He didn’t need hope.
The shore felt a long, long ways away for Stephanie Nashton, though truthfully, she could turn on a dime if she really wanted. She was always good at digging through and finding positives even in the worst situations. She just didn’t have the energy to do it right now. Maybe that was telling, maybe she still wasn’t healed completely. Maybe she should have stayed in that damn hospital longer. Doubt bubbled up in her stomach as she saw Eddie finding himself while she was still lost at sea. What was wrong with her? Sighing to herself, she chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment.
“I will. I’ll check in with all of them. Barbara’s gotta be far along now, I hope she’s getting all the help she needs. If not, I’ll make sure she does. I’ll help her out myself.” It was probably prudent that Stephanie get used to a pregnant Barbara now because soon she wouldn’t be pregnant. She’d be a mother; no matter how hard Steph tried to think contrary, Barbara would be a mother. She, Stephanie, would be an aunt. Maybe that wasn’t going to be such a bad thing in the end. After all, she’d be a fucking awful mother right now.
She noted the lack of bitterness in his voice, and she offered him a soft, proud smile. Eddie didn’t need to be the family’s Oracle. He could be something more. Something different. Something for him. That was part of why she wasn’t Batgirl anymore. Spoiler? Well, that was hers. “She’ll love that. She really will.” Smoothing her hands over the ruffles of her dress, she looked down at her lap. “I think they all need that. Some feeling of family. I wish I could remind them all myself.” They all probably did, honestly. It was cyclical, the family falling apart and coming back together in patchwork messiness as best it could.
When he continued, she raised her eyebrows and looked back up at him. “Really?” Her eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head. “I-- no I’ll give it up too, if that’s what you want. If that’s what you need,” she told him immediately, not even thinking about herself. If he needed it? Consider it done. And she could sense that sharpness that hadn’t been there in months, and she was glad that at least Eddie was finally finding himself in the depths of the dark waters that had been smothering them both. Genuinely, truly glad.
Eddie smiled at her offer and shook his head. “It’s not a problem. I don’t see people drink and crave one.” He leaned forward on the table and folded his hands together. “It’s only a personal choice. I won’t get into the details of it, but my power works best with a clear mind. The spirits I raise tend to have an emotional connection with me and if I’m unstable, they will be too.” Still, he was a little charmed she’d give it all up for him. “Please. I bought that margarita machine and it still hasn’t been used enough.”
He looked down at his hands and then back up at her. “If there’s one thing this year has taught me is that relying on each other isn’t always the best way to get through problems. I’m broken and so are you. I need to figure out what kind of person I am. So do you. This clinic thing? It’s all you. I haven’t had anything to do with it because I’ve been stuck here and maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we’re not supposed to be partners anymore. Maybe it’s got to be something else.” He didn’t sound too broken up about it. Eddie knew they had changed and he was trying to find an angle they could work from. And, as for kids? They were the farthest thing from his mind, now. Eddie really believed they were out of the question with all of the distance and troubles between them. Why bring a child into that?
“You can get into the details of it.” Stephanie shook her head a little again. “You don’t have to keep skimming over things, baby.” The baby was said softly, hesitantly, almost like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to call him that right then and there. Her voice stayed soft, if a little insistent because she was so more than willing to do this trivial little thing. “If you want me to quit too, I’ll do it. We can give that damn machine to someone else in the building. One of the girls. They’ll love it. I’ll do it, Eddie.” She trusted him to know if her drinking would be a problem, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t do this together.
She listened intently, even if he was saying things she didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to hear that they were fucked and broken and that they weren’t partners anymore. She didn’t want to hear any of that. Even if she knew every single syllable from his mouth was true. They weren’t functioning as partners anymore. They couldn’t help each other out, and she wanted to pinpoint the exact moment where that became true. “We’re husband and wife,” she said quietly, an almost lost whisper in the din of the people eating and drinking and chatting. “We’re supposed to be the definition of partners, aren’t we?” Finally, she looked up at him, and while he could tell how much this was a punch to the gut, she knew he was right. “So. What do we do?” she asked with a weightiness rarely heard from her, running a hand through her messy blonde hair.
“Do-” A shuddering breath. “Do you want space? We can -- well we can do it the way we said before. No one else has to know. I can even say I got booted from this door and can’t come back in. Something like that.” She waved a hand like she would figure it all out if necessary. “I don’t want space, I don’t need it, but if you-- if you think we should have it, I can do it.”
“I can, but should I?” Eddie asked, eyes going narrow with slyness. “It’ll bore you, trust me. All this stuff in my notebook? Boring.” He pointed to the journal he was pouring over before. “I was going to forgo this entire conversation and whisk you away on my horse, but I can’t do that. I’d probably raise the entire battle field in the woods on accident because I’d be bottling everything up.” He put his hand on the journal again. “I’m making an effort to be more entertaining. I don’t care if what you said was a joke, I’m taking it seriously. No more babbling on about silly things you don’t care about.”
He shook his head when she tried to use the husband and wife thing on him. “We got married to a memory, Stephanie. We had no fucking idea what we were getting ourselves into. Or maybe we did, but we didn’t care. The man you married isn’t me and the woman I married isn’t you. That’s the sad truth of it. So, we need to figure out if we can still stick with the people we’ve become.” He sighed and his shoulders dropped pathetically. He looked down at his hands and shook his head. “No, you shouldn’t give me space. If you give me space, there’s not going to be anything left for us to salvage.”
Stephanie fought the urge to roll her eyes, but instead she huffed a little. “It isn’t silly, and I do care. Jesus. Of course I care. Would you want me to not talk about things with you, Eddie? Hmmm? Don’t do that with me.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, staring down at the unvarnished wooden table. “It was a joke. I understand that it hurt you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I did, honestly. But it’s wasn’t because I don’t think you’re not entertaining enough. I’m not bored by you. Not in the slightest.” In fact, she was scared that he was bored by her now. Or he would be the further along he got with his powers. And there went that slight lick of bitterness for Muerte, who surely understood everything he was going through. Steph frowned deeply and buried that away. That wasn’t Muerte’s fault. Stephanie was failing him. No one else.
Another twist of the knife into her gut, but she didn’t protest. She didn’t wail out or shout at him. No, he was right. They married the versions of themselves from Earth-3, but Stephanie wasn’t that woman anymore, and Eddie wasn’t that man either. “I’m sorry,” she apologized softly regardless of it not being her fault or his fault or anyone’s fault. It certainly felt like her fault. She breathed out a sigh of relief when he said he didn’t want space, that he didn’t want a break, and she closed her eyes, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. “So, what then? What do we do? I want to do anything to save this. To save us. I’ll do anything.”
Eddie laughed dryly at her protest and shook his finger at her. No, no. “It came from somewhere, Stephanie. And, don’t you dare turn it around on me. I’d never make fun of you like that in public. All I’ve ever done is talk about how great I think you are. Sure we tease each other, but I’d never go after something that’s in your personality.” He could feel his heels digging into the matter and tried his very best to stop himself. “Just be glad you didn’t say you thought I was stupid. I have a harder time letting that go.” Eddie waved his hand because he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. The truth was, she didn’t make him feel comfortable enough to muse at length about his powers. She couldn’t do anything about that. For the first time in years, he really cared what he looked like to her. He didn’t want her to see the weakness, the babbling, the boring silliness. He was afraid to share it.
He sighed and watched her dig her fingers into her eyes. “I don’t know the answer to that riddle. Try to live with each other. Figure out why we worked so well in the first place.” Eddie wasn’t sure how they could get to that from this conversation. He wondered how much longer it would be until they’d actually get intimate with each other. “Before all of this I had a few things planned, as I told you. Let’s try to do them tomorrow and have a good time. See what happens.” He shrugged. That was the best he could do.
“It was a tease that went wrong then, that went too far,” she offered, a little frustration finally showing, and she turned her face away from him, rubbing her temple just a touch. “And I would never call you stupid, are you fucking kidding me.” The ire in her voice was directed at both of them. Eddie for even thinking she was capable of that, and herself for letting Eddie learn to believe she was. “I would never do that.” Turning back, she tried not to snap at the dismissive wave of his hand, but she could feel her insides turn into stone. He just didn’t trust her anymore, did he? She almost said it, she opened her mouth with accusation on her tongue, but she bit it back in favor of not destroying the thin threads of connection they had left.
“Okay, I can do that. Let’s do that,” she said softly after a moment, coincidentally wondering the same thing that he was. When was the next time they would be close again? Would they ever? She nodded, rubbing at her eyes to dry tears that might threaten to come if she wasn’t careful about it. “We’ll figure it out, won’t we?” Her voice had a tinge of hope that she couldn’t stifle if she tried. She had to cling to the hope that her marriage wouldn’t crumble underneath her. If she lost this? She didn’t even know what else she might have. “We’ll have a good weekend,” she reaffirmed, hand stretching out in an abortive move for his own. She waited for a moment, drawing her hand back to her lap. “Do you want to go upstairs for now? Talk for a little bit? Or just sleep.”
If she had asked, he wouldn’t have been upset. No, he didn’t trust her completely and that wasn’t clear to him until very recently. He trusted her with his life, his property, the earthly things of their relationship. But, he didn’t trust her with his heart, not yet. How could he? How did she trust him, when he was changing into a different person right before her eyes? It was that realization that made this easier. That gave him a goal. “We’ll figure it out.” He promised and picked the feather up on the table to tuck behind his vest. He felt it warm his chest with an even pressure like a hand on his heart.
“Well, actually I was going to go have a chat with some ghosts. It’s just about the witching hour.” Eddie whispered mischievously with a little waggle of his eyebrows. “I don’t believe I’m prepared to go find the horseman, so tonight shall be for investigating. Plus, I promised some ghost mice cheese. They can’t eat it, but they swore the smell would be enough.” He stood up and grabbed his journal. “You’re welcome to come along. Though, I would change into one of my pairs of pants if I were you. In case running is necessary.”
Stephanie couldn’t stifle the sigh when he still didn’t grab her hand, and she pressed the heel of her hand into her eye as she lingered for a moment. No, she wouldn’t let anyone else know about their troubles again, and wasn’t this a good lesson on watching what she said to other people? It had been so fucking long since they’d tiptoed around each other like this, and sitting here in this goddamn inn in a door that wasn’t their own just made her want to turn back time and go back into the VA. But, there was her selfishness again. She tried to ignore that, ignore the pain in her chest that felt like ice.
But she couldn’t help the smile when he said he was bringing ghost mice cheese. “Oh yeah?” Her smile went soft, and she looked up at him from his chair before standing up. “I would love to come along.” Smirking at his suggestion, she nodded, letting him point out the room upstairs that he’d gotten for them and promising to be back as soon as she could get out of the miles and miles of dress she was wearing. Once upstairs, once away from Eddie and the rest of the prying eyes and ears of the inn-dwellers, Steph closed the door, and a sob burst out from her chest as she leaned against the thick wood. She couldn’t help it. So, she allowed herself thirty seconds of uncontrollable sobbing for all the pain and anguish and loss she was feeling before forcing herself to calm down enough to pick apart the room. A couple of gasps, and rough wipes to her eyes, and she wobbled away from the door.
The room itself was typical fare, lit by more candles and oil lanterns, and as she wiped away at her eyes still. On the desk was a box creepy looking necklaces and other jewels and artifacts. Steph picked up one, inspecting it closely before dropping it unceremoniously, a strange feeling sliding up her arm and down her spine. She uugghhed quietly, hoarsely, before stepping to the armoire. Bright, bright greens and demure grays greeted her, and she couldn’t help but bubble out another sob. This one affectionate and happy for the man just one flight below her. Some things she could still understand. Some things she still knew about the man she married, and his bright, flamboyant attitude and attire was one of them.
In the end, Stephanie chose something a bit more understated, blue on tan, and she came downstairs with her hair plaited to the side (as if she was actually going riding for a competition instead of ghost hunting) and her eyes only slightly puffy. “I’m ready for running away from ghostly spectres now.” The top hat was tucked underneath her arm, and she tried on a smile for size. It even looked believable, like she hadn’t just cried her eyes out. But the prospect of an adventure, no matter how creepy, made her genuinely happy, intrigued, and excited. She could forget everything else for a little while.
As she left, he slumped back down in his chair and put his feet up on her seat. He looked down at the journal in his lap and couldn’t believe how close they had gotten to breaking up. Divorce. That word chilled him to the bone and yet when he was in the thick of things, he knew it was the easiest solution. No one would give him what he needed except Stephanie, but he could piece together a life of many different people to come close. There was a time when he couldn’t imagine a life without her. Without the family they promised each other. But, now that Gotham survivalism was kicking in and he knew that he’d be able to go on without her if it came to that. Eddie didn’t like it. He didn’t like that he was building himself into a person that didn’t absolutely fucking need her. He wondered if this was what marriage was supposed to feel like. If they weren’t alone. And then he reminded himself that no one could ever look at him the way Stephanie did. She used to make him feel whole, she made him feel real and who else would ever do that for him?
Lost in his thoughts, he glanced up when she spoke and then did a comical double take. She looked amazing in that blue and it brought a real smile to his face. “Baby.” He whispered even if that particular pet name was out of bounds. In the candlelight, the sore eyes she had from crying looked beautiful and raw in a way he couldn’t stop loving about her. Stephanie wasn’t someone draped in mystery and power. She was something more. Stephanie was his connection to what it felt like to actually be human. To be alive. The kind of humans he bought comic books from who had tumblrs and cried about disabled animals and hated things without realizing why.
His heart beat like a messy drum and his smile grew at that lightness she could bring him even in these depths. Eddie got to his feet and stepped close enough to touch without doing so. He gently ran his finger along the inside of her blue sleeve, carefully avoiding her skin. He gave her a look like he wanted to play a game. Like he wanted to see if they could make each other want to touch and hold and kiss and whoever gave in first was the loser. It wasn’t a game they had played in a long, long time. Earth-3 didn’t provide much space for that kind of thing. No, this was something more suited towards that first night in the snowy woods. This was an attempt at a date, six years down the line.
“Will you help me put our horses in the barn?” He said softly, like he was practicing to be prince charming. “I thought about taking them, but Bart’s an old horse, he might die of fright.” He grabbed his jacket and made an effort to straighten out his collar and sleeves so he looked as good as she did. Once outside he breathed in the fresh air and then untied Bart’s reigns. “I’ve got an alternative means of transportation.” Eddie said secretively. And yes, he wanted her to guess what it was.