nick pierce is definitely (nottherobin) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-08-06 18:49:00 |
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Stephanie was still pretty shaken by the memories that assaulted everyone connected to that hotel and to Las Vegas. It wasn’t that she experienced anything particularly bad, at least not from people she came into direct contact with. Nick, on the other hand, was an even worse wreck, and that left Stephanie feeling awful and awfully tired as she swung through Gotham and towards Damian and Selina’s new apartment. The idea that they were cohabiting was still endlessly amusing to her, and it would be a lie to say that this wasn’t an excuse to see the new digs. But, most importantly, she wanted to make sure Damian was okay. She hadn’t clapped eyes on him since before he “disappeared.” Steph hadn’t fallen for his machismo act about his mother, either, following seeing that movie on the other side. (She hadn’t liked it very much as well, though she was kind of jealous of the happy ending they all seemed to get.) She landed on roof of his building, where she stayed for a moment to collect herself. The fatigue was really getting to her, but it wasn’t much she could do. Nick couldn’t get enough sleep, especially after seeing what he saw, and there were things to do on this side as well -- school, crime-fighting, keeping track of baby birds. There just wasn’t much time to catch up on sleep. With a roll of her shoulders, she moved to the edge and lowered herself down to his apartment. It was night, so at least people wouldn’t really notice her moving towards the window, but she was careful just in case. Landing on the ledge with relative grace, she rapt on the window to garner some attention from whoever was inside. She was in full Batgirl regalia, mostly for appearance’s sake, and slung over her back, she did have clothes to change into if Damian wasn’t up for being Talon tonight. The Talon/Catwoman “love nest” looked like a mix of a college student’s messy dorm and a middle-aged single woman’s cat hovel. There were stray cats underfoot, on chairs and wandering around cat trees that Damian built in his spare time. He liked them, not as much as Selina, but enough to make sure they all had their shots, food and medication if needed. They all were allowed to do as they pleased, but Bandit was the only one who stayed in the apartment all day and insisted being in his personal space every second that he was home. Damian liked that, too. Sitting at his workbench, tinkering with gadgets, he looked up to see Batgirl crawl through the window. “Steph.” He said with a nod of his head. “I’m assuming you had a run in with the memories, as well?” If she was here to talk or distract themselves with kicking ass, he could do with either. “Yeah, I did,” Steph said, landing on the floor just inside of the window. She pulled off the cowl in one swift motion, shaking out her blonde hair and running a gloved hand through it. Not tripping over the multitude of cats was difficult, especially for someone still prone to the clumsy trippings adolescence brought, but she largely succeeded. “Where’s baby Bandit?” she asked, combing the throng of kittens with her eyes to look for Damian’s. She kind of felt like the kitty’s aunt, seeing as the little bird owner was like her brother. Clipping off the utility belt around her leg and the one around her waist, she slung it over her arm. “Were yours bad?” The memories, she meant, and she shot him a curious look as she sauntered over slowly to the workbench, heavy boots scattering the kittens bold enough to come sniff her. Damian (first checking behind him to make sure the path was clear) rolled his chair away from the workbench and reached into a fuzzy box with a round hole for an entrance. He pulled out the sleepy, limp body of little Bandit who gave a curious meow as to why he was disturbing her slumber. “Some of them were.” Damian handed her the kitten delicately, who seemed happy to sleep in Stephanie’s arms as it began to purr like a tiny little motor. “I had one of your memories. And, you don’t want to guess which one it was.” He told her grimly, rolling back to his workbench. “Jason always whines about how he had it the worst of all the Robins, but everyone knows you did. Sometimes I think we would have all been better off if we never put on the cape.” Damian had just finished a long heart-to-heart with Luke. It made him see that taking other people’s names- claiming something that didn’t belong to him was childish. But, who could he be? What kind of name could he make for himself? Stephanie took Bandit in her arms without a second thought, gently rubbing the kitten’s soft fur. Bandit had grown significantly in the month or so since she’d last seen her, and that thought tugged the ghost of a smile. As Damian rolled back to his workbench, she took a nearby seat, sliding her belts onto the floor with a thunk before settling in with the cat in her lap. Scratching behind Bandit’s black ear, she listened to Damian. “Oh,” she said, looking away, trying not to rub the back of her neck in embarrassment. Moving around would disturb the kitten too much. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Go through it. Whatever happened with you.” What Black Mask did to her...well, she didn’t really like to discuss it. “Jason had it hard, though. Nick feels bad for him,” she said with the slightest shrug, and then her eyes darted back to him. “I think a lot of good came from us doing this though. No matter what’s happened. I can’t imagine doing anything else.” And that was the truth, at least for her. She believed despite the violence or the torture that the hope and justice they brought to the citizens of Gotham made it all worth it. “But, what happens when you grow out of it?” Damian knew that wasn’t a fair question. “Oracle didn’t have a choice. And, you can’t be Batwoman. Even if she isn’t here, you can’t take her name.” He sighed, leaning his head back on the chair childishly as he stared up at the ceiling. “I had no idea it would take this much thought. When we’re young, we can just take names from others because it’s a symbol. It’s a role you have to fill.” It seemed trivial, but with the recent development with the Talons and what they really stood for, Damian didn’t want to be at such odds with Batman. His father. “I know I can’t be Batwoman,” Stephanie said evenly. It wasn’t a fair question, no, but it was something all of the Robins had to think about eventually. Steph had started with her own identity; Spoiler was hers. But, then she took on the mantle of Robin, then of Batgirl. Where did that leave her when she was far too to be any sort of ‘girl’? “I don’t know, Damian. I wish I had the answer. Grayson might be able to help with that but...” She trailed off with a shrug. “I’ll be Batgirl for as long as I need, and then figure it out from there. I know that’s not the same for you, and it’s not helpful, but that’s part of being a young adult, y’know. Figuring stuff out and stuff.” An amused scoff. “Not that most of the adults I’ve ever met really have stuff figured out.” Sighing, she looked back down at Bandit in her lap. Sometimes she wished it was easier. In her moments of most exhaustion and weakness, she wished she never had a third-rate criminal father, and she wished she never ran into Tim that night, and she wished she never made all the mistakes she had over the years. But then, she wouldn’t be Stephanie Brown, would she? “It’s hard, Damian, growing up. Not just in the cowl, but out of it. And you had to do it fast, but you’re allowed to take your time now, kid. Promise no one will get mad.” Damian made a huffing noise through his nose and then closed his eyes. “I saw my father. He was barely older than me and so angry. Someone told him that his father would be disappointed and it destroyed him. That and my conversations with Luke-” Damian sat up and looked at Stephanie. “I’ll figure out who I want to be someday, but it can’t come at the price of losing my father. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me. For killing the Talons and everything else, but I have to try.” Damian could get so serious sometimes. The look on his face was grave and filled with regret. A reflection of the Wayne blood that pumped through him. “Did you get anything really bad?” He asked after a minute of silent pondering. Batgirl was a tough girl but her poker face needed work. Even if she came here just to check up on him, he knew there were things bothering her about this memories thing. Steph bit her lip. “You won’t lose your father, Damian. This one’s different, sure, but he cares for you, too. And after the things I’ve pulled on Bruce, and Jason has, and Dick has, if he can call us part of the family still, he can definitely do more than that for you.” This Bruce, he still wasn’t theirs, but Steph believed he would make an effort. Maybe. Hopefully. She still had an iffy relationship with her Bruce, but maybe they could forge a new relationship in this new Gotham. “I, uh, yeah. Nothing terrible but--” Nick’s stammering was rubbing off on her. “I saw what happened to Nick’s brother. Through Jonathan Crane’s eyes, since that’s who was connected with him.” She paused for a moment, almost out of respect for the memory still lingering in both their minds. “I got one from your dad, too. About Harvey Dent. About how...he took the fall for Two-Face’s crimes in his Gotham.” Damian listened quietly, playing with the improved smoke bomb he was working on in his hands as she spoke. “Scarecrow? That bastard. I’m surprised he didn’t rub it in your face.” He remembered Selina shooting Crane, remembered that smug little smile that said no matter what anyone does in Gotham, the nightmares always win. The villains in Gotham were all like that. All so sure of themselves even though they failed over and over. It was pathetic. The next part peaked his interest, though. “Still trying to wrap my brain around Gotham being free of crime for almost an entire decade. Only to be handed off to some untrained cop. Insanity.” It was almost funny that Gotham could be so peaceful without psychopaths running around. It made sense, of course, but he had such a hard time imagining his city like that. “Yeah, Scarecrow. I talked to him. Nick made me do it.” She gave Damian a ragged sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose with one hand while the other still supported Bandit in her lap. “He didn’t rub it in my face, but he said some stuff, then proceeded to warn me to protect Nick. Ridiculous, right?” Scarecrow, though she hated to admit it, got under her skin sometimes, especially when he managed to hit on her own weaknesses. “Untrained cop? Oh...you mean that Blake guy?” Steph raised a brow, trying to toe the water to see if Damian actually appreciated him. “He isn’t so bad, he seems capable. You said yourself he’s like Dick. And he’s got some Tim, too.” She paused and looked at him for a moment before deciding to hell with it. “He’s here, by the way. Tim. Or, he will be soon.” Damian seemed lost in thought about Blake as a potential heir to the cowl. He was a good detective and he had the heart for it, but none of the training. None of the knowledge. And, perhaps, none of the support. Though, that Gotham was rather bland compared to this one. Damian opened his mouth to make a comment, but then heard Tim’s name and scowled. “Figures.” It was almost as if the walls suddenly went up around Damian and whatever ability he had to have a heart to heart was gone. Tim was an easier son to have than Damian could ever be. He followed orders and openly desired respect and love from Bruce. Damian was naturally more guarded about such a thing and to this Batman, the choice would be easy. And, he hated that. He hated him. “Here, I made these for you.” He said like they’d never talk again after this, placed the smoke bombs on the table in front of her, grabbed his utility belt and climbed out the window. Damian didn’t know what he was going to do, especially without his Talon suit on, but he desperately needed some air. “Damian,” Steph said, tone concerned and look pointed. Tim had always been a point of great contention between she and the little bird, she knew that, and she knew neither boy was the others’ favorites. Tim was an awkward subject for herself at the moment, too. So, she was iffy about him being back in Gotham. She didn’t know whether she wanted to see him or shove his stupid face away. Whatever, not the priority, not when Damian looked like she’d stabbed him in the gut. “Damian.” Steph reached out to try to brush her fingers on his shoulder, but then he was off. Huffing dramatically, she stood up and put Bandit down on the couch, giving her one quick and affectionate pet before grabbing the smoke bombs and her belt and tailing him to the window. “Where are you going?” she shouted after him, sticking her head out the window. “Damian!” Pulling herself out of the window, she tried to pursue him as best she could. Damian swung from the catwalk to a drainpipe. He was always a lot faster than Batgirl (in his so humble opinion), but he found himself going just slow enough that she could catch up to him. Climbing up on the roof, he turned to look at her as she scrambled after him, eyes burning with a mix of hate, hurt and fear. Damian felt like he had gained something in this Gotham, even if his relationship with Bruce was on ice. He couldn’t handle losing Stephanie to Tim. “It doesn’t matter what you say.” Damian blurted out, arms crossed defensively over his stomach. “When it comes down to me or him, you won’t- I know you-” Damian was usually quite eloquent for a little brat, but that was before he could really care about anyone except for himself. Even if this whole thing was selfish, even if he knew deep down he’d have to make peace with his brother, this was about losing someone he cared about. She made it to the roof a few seconds (just a few, Damian Wayne) after he landed and caught the look in his eyes immediately. Crap. As much as Damian pissed her off sometimes -- and oh, did he piss her off -- seeing him so upset tugged at her heart in such a brutal way. She bit down on her lip hard, and her blue eyes slid from his upset eyes to his crossed arms and back up to his face. Crap. Daring a step forward, Steph tilted her head and shot him a soft look. “So you think,” she said quietly, but firmly. “A -- I’m not taking sides, if there are sides to take. And B. I’m not sure I want to see him either, okay?” She took another step, this time within reaching distance, and looked at him for a long moment, like a big sister seeing her little brother’s heart broken. And because this was the first time she had seen him since he disappeared along with Roger, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He’d probably shove a Batarang in her neck, but she wanted to know that he meant as much to her as she suspected she did to him. “I keep telling you, you aren’t going to lose me, dumb little bird.” Damian expected a fight. When he was a child, they always acted like they were seconds away from some immature throw down, so why was now any different? When she walked towards him, his body tensed, foot moving back slightly ready for a defensive pose, which meant the tight hug nearly threw him off balance. It was good she had her arms around his neck because it meant she missed the dumbfounded look of surprise on his face. “Steph-” He wiggled a little at first like a tiny bird trying to escape the grasp of some bigger predator, but quickly gave up and reached his arms around her waist. He didn’t believe her, not really, but the hug was nice. Physical affection wasn’t something he was used to yet, but it wasn’t necessarily unwanted. “When we were kids-” Damian didn’t pull away from the hug yet, eyes open as he rested the side of his head on her shoulder. “I kept telling you that you were slowing me down, but you stuck with me. I must have said I was going to stab you at least a dozen times.” Steph felt the stiffness in his body, the guard going up and slowly slipping down as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Yeah, before all this nonsense with doors and alters and Bruces and Gothams that weren’t there, she probably would have ended up in a fight with him. That was the way the younger Damian and Steph worked, at least. Now, they were both a little older (or, really older in his case) and seen a lot. A lot, and it honestly brought them closer together. Tim, he was important and he always would be, but Damian was now, too. Laughing, she squeezed a little tighter. She wanted him to finally begin trusting her because she wasn’t lying. She would be there for him. “And aren’t you glad now that you didn’t, bird boy? Who would you be able to whine about Selina to, huh?” It was a tease, mostly, but also a reassurance that he could turn to her for whatever. Damian smiled, face hidden away in her shoulder blade even though he ultimately wasn’t doing a good job of hiding how he felt. He needed Steph in his life whether or not he’d ever verbalize it or admit it fully to himself. Plus, her insistence of doing just that even though he threw fits and tried to get rid of her strengthened their bond much more than it had ever been in their Gotham. “Ugh-” He finally fought her off and squirmed like a kitten who just decided it didn’t want to be cuddled anymore until she let him go. “This is our home, she could be listening.” Damian actually sounded like an eighteen year old with a crush, so he tried to bring it back to pompous brat who doesn’t care about anyone territory. “If she drags in any more cats or one of the Sirens, I’m moving in with you.” Just like that, his voice sounded like an older version of who he was at ten. It would be endearing, if it wasn’t so annoying. “She might have mics on you, actually, if you wanna think that paranoid.” She let him go, looking at him with slightly tilted head and affectionate smile. Maybe she shouldn’t let him know how much she cared for him, but she did, so she would. So what if Damian would be a jerk about it sometimes? She’d known bigger assholes. Still, he was like a little brother, so she couldn’t let him off too easily. Shoving his shoulder hard, she tried to look really angry. “Uh, I didn’t offer it. You’re going to cramp my style.” Steph looked him over as if appraising him, as if checking to see if he’d be good enough to live with her. She was joking, of course, but she didn’t want to give him everything he wanted that easily. “Yeah, you’d totally cramp my style.” Looking him over again, she remembered the utility belt. “Want to head out for a little bit and stretch the wings? I’m ready to kick some asses after these past few days.” “Like you’d have a choice.” He snorted, eyebrow raised. “You couldn’t say no to Bandit, even if you tried.” Damian smiled smugly, turning away from her so he could look through his utility belt. Maybe he couldn’t go as Talon, but he could still run around in a mask. “Those smoke bombs I gave you. They have an agent that makes extremities freeze if they aren’t covered by body armor. Shocks people long enough for you to take them down.” He was proud of his own ingenuity, but the smugness was gone. Damian wasn’t the best detective and didn’t have the patience for puzzles, but he was a damn good inventor. “I figured since your weight tends to slow you down, it was only fair I helped you even the playing field a little.” Damian pushed his old Robin mask on his face and grinned at her. Little brother mode: activated. As Damian dug through his utility belt, Steph clicked hers back in place and huffed another dramatic life. “Bandit can totally come. I feel like her aunt, and she’s the cutest little niece ever. You, on the other hand,” she said, looking up with a grin, “you guys aren’t a package deal.” She dropped the bombs into one of her empty pockets, noting what he said about its effects, and didn’t expect his remark at all, even if she should have. It earned him a deadpanned look, one with actual irritation and anger. So different from the warm, affectionate looks from before. “I am not fat,” she snapped back, sounding so very teenager just then. Figures he’d ruin a good moment. Standing up straight, she backed up to the edge and smiled at him with a sharp. “First one to Wayne Tower wins.” Reaching down, she grabbed her grapple gun and shot it off to the closest building to the roof. “Game on, little bird.” |