Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-19 02:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, door: dc comics, stephanie brown |
Who: Bruce and Steph
What: These two finally have a proper conversation.
Where: The Batcave~
When: Waay backdated to before the party of crazy.
Warnings/Rating: None.
Ever since the events of a few weeks past, when a mere trio of villains had thrown Gotham into chaos and, despite their plans being foiled, escaped largely unscathed, Bruce had been keeping a closer eye on all those who fought for his cause. Damian, Tim, even Jason and Richard Grayson-- they were all monitored, likely unaware of just how closely, but none more so than one Stephanie Brown. She had suffered the most in the aftermath, and the price she paid to save her hostages had been much higher; in fact, none of them had been very badly injured at all, save for Catwoman. But Stephanie... whatever the Riddler had thrown her way, it was clear she hadn’t been able to handle it properly. No one who was fully, wholly prepared would emerge as battered and wounded as she did, and that worried him a great deal. He and Stephanie may not have had a great deal of interaction, and unlike the others, she was not his child, legally or otherwise. Regardless, he was still responsible for her, and she was the only one who’d truly taken on his name. Robins and Nightwings were associated with Batman, yes, but Batgirl suggested a connection which could not be denied.
The Riddler had mocked her worth, but Bruce was not so much disappointed in her as he was concerned that she had, somewhere along the line, lacked the training necessary to be able to withstand a villain’s traps without such a close brush with death. Or, perhaps, he simply should have kept up with whatever training she had received. He should have judged her current skills himself, and asked to see her in action, as he had with the others.
Needless to say, the two had a great deal to talk about, and rather than find her as Batgirl, with both of them behind the cowl, Bruce opted to simply wait for her to come to him. Sooner or later, she would have some need to visit the cave, and that would be his chance. He worked while he waited, of course; as nearly all of the missing babies had been located and returned, he was focused on Wonder City just then, and establishments similar to the one he and Selina had rescued those children from-- the children who, with some help from the Wayne Foundation, were well on their way to finding proper homes. There was always something, and it was simply a matter of effectively alloting his time.
As ingrained in his work as he was, however, Bruce was still aware of his surroundings, and he paused every so often, listening, before returning to whatever it was he was doing.
Stephanie knew she was in the weeds at this point. Riddler decided to make her his little play thing. A project. And she kept giving in to his bizarre tests and riddles, even after that riddle house he concocted with the nurses rattled her to her bones. Literally. The injuries hadn’t healed and the dust hadn’t settled yet, but she was already back on the streets and he was already up to his old shenanigans. There was no break, but then again, there was never really a break in Gotham City, was there? Always another thug to beat down or another larger-than-life villain to throw back into Arkham. Gotham was filled to the brim with the lowest of the low, darkness and filth crawling out of the cracks in the pavements and corners and the dark alleyways of Crime Alley.
The moment after she ripped the communication device out of her ear and dropped the battery pack on the floor, she stood on the roof of one of the lower, more destitute buildings of Old Gotham to take a deep breath. Riddler got to her, he did, but she would never admit it. And, as much as she probably should let everyone know what transpired, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with some ice cream and stupid Lifetime movies. Maybe that would make it easier to tuck all of this away to the back of her mind, maybe she would be able to catch some sleep before she was booted out of the door. (On the Las Vegas side of things, Nick still hardly slept a wink, so it was up to Steph to rest for both of them. Ha, yeah, right.) Still, she needed to take care of something first. Clearly, the frequency on the communication system was not as secure as they all thought. Riddler easily hacked into it. So, she wasn’t the most tech-savvy Batfamily member -- that honor went to Barbara, hands down -- but she could figure out the problem with a little bit of tinkering, right? She just needed to reach the Batcave and get to that massive computer.
On her cycle (which, okay, maybe she shouldn’t be riding in her recovering condition), she made it from Old Gotham to the suburban outskirts with good time and skidded through the entrance she found when visiting Damian once. It wasn’t too late, but late enough not to expect anyone else in the cave. Without thought, Steph slipped off her cowl, letting her blond hair free with a shake of her hand before stepping further into towards where the Batcomputer was. Her progress quickly stopped, however, when she spotted something tall, dark and looming at the computer. Bruce. Crap. She hadn’t had much interaction at all with this universe’s Batman, and she definitely did not want to tell Bruce about what happened with Riddler.
Taking a step back, she cleared her throat. “Uh, hi.”
Bruce had spent so much time being the only one who knew how to access the Batcave, aside from Alfred, that he was always on high alert when it came to a foreign presence. With time, he supposed he would cease to see the others as strangers on his territory, but for now, he was still accustoming himself to the reality that he was no longer alone in his quest to save Gotham. He heard the engine of a vehicle seconds before Stephanie’s cycle appeared, and the cameras which monitored the property picked up movement even before that, but he didn’t look up, not immediately. He waited for her to acknowledge his presence first before straightening, seemingly unconcerned, before turning in her direction.
“Hello, Stephanie.” He leaned against the desk as he regarded her, a slight frown tugging at his lips when he saw she was suited up. Based upon what he understood of the extent of her injuries, Bruce hardly thought she should be back in action already. “How are you feeling?”
Stephanie seemed glued to her spot, not backing up any more nor moving closer to Bruce either. He somehow still managed to make her feel uncomfortable at times, her Bruce Wayne, but this one was just way worse. She took the frown as one of disapproval, which bubbled a little irritation in her stomach. Shrugging and looking as nonchalant as possible, she said, “Better.” It wasn’t a lie. She was better; she just wasn’t good. With the cowl off, her nose’s swelling and the black and blues on her cheeks, still present even weeks later, stood in stark contrast to her pale skin and hair. “Tim patched me up well. Thanks for making him come get me.” Rocking on her heels, she tried to find something else to say, tried to fight the urge to blurt out what just happened, and so all Steph ended up doing was glancing around the Batcave instead of making eye contact with Bruce.
Most people felt uncomfortable in Bruce’s presence, whether it was intentional on his part or not. He had a way of looking at people which involved very little blinking, translating into a stare that was difficult, if not impossible to meet, and seemed to know everything all at once. She was currently being regarded in such a manner, and while her nonchalance hardly fooled him, he merely nodded, because the fact that she was on her feet did indicate that she was better. The injuries marring her face were still very much visible, and they told a story, one he wasn’t quite sure he would ever hear; not in its entirety, at least. “I’m sure Tim would have gone whether I insisted or not,” he said. He wasn’t necessarily trying to imply anything; Bruce was too ignorant of the inner workings of teenagers for that. To him, it was simple fact. While most people tended to avoid eye contact, he often found that there was a reason for it, and suspected there was something in her eyes, perhaps some truth, she didn’t want him to see. “You’ve been out,” he remarked mildly, after realizing the silence was likely to continue until one of them went their separate ways. “Did you encounter anything worth noting?”
Bruce’s comment about Tim caused Steph’s eyes to flicker towards him, and her eyebrows furrowed. It was an attempt to keep a neutral expression about the former boy wonder. Steph’s poker face was never very good, though. “Nothing’s going on.” Her voice lifted in that sort of way when someone desperately wanted the subject to change. “Between me and Tim. Nothing’s going on.” The entire Batfamily was quite aware of Tim and Stephanie’s relationship in her time, but she had no idea if this Bruce knew much of anything regarding their pasts, especially romantic interludes. She looked away again quickly, eyes landing on the Batwing Damian was so proud of, and wondered for a long moment what he would say about Riddler’s antics that night. “Yeah, I went out for a little,” she replied, chancing another look in older man’s direction. He always had this way of looking as though he could look straight through her, or read her mind, or a combination of the two. Fighting the urge to bite her lip, after a second, she said, “I--I mean, it wasn’t anything big. The usual.” But Bruce always had a way of finding out everything, and Stephanie knew that. “Riddler, he hacked into my comm,” she continued, pulling the device out of her ear and holding out for him to see. “I was just coming to tinker with the frequency.”
Bruce was well aware of Tim and Stephanie’s romantic past, but it wasn’t something he dwelled upon, or thought was particularly important in the grand scheme of things. He’d been under the impression that they had reached a point where it was something they’d both moved on from, and had managed to meet on a sort of middle ground, but as he regarded her now, he wondered if perhaps he’d been wrong. Maybe teenage romance and heartbreak was more impactful than he’d thought; he had been the exact opposite of a normal teenager himself. “I know,” he said, a hint of puzzlement in the tilt of his head. “You two are friends. He cares about you, just as Damian does. That’s all I meant.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if he was wrong, if Tim’s feelings were stronger than he’d initially thought, but he realized that might not be the best topic of conversation. Not with her, at least.
This required a great deal of patience, coaxing out the truth, but fortunately Bruce had all but mastered that particular art. He waited as Stephanie admitted that she had gone out, which was evident enough from her gear, and he waited as she stumbled her way to the point-- to whatever was making her appear more nervous than he suspected she might usually be. Riddler managing to hack into their supposedly secure communication system was troublesome, but she could have told him that Gotham was hours away from complete annihilation and Bruce still wouldn’t have betrayed a hint of panic of loss of control. “I suppose our security needs some improvement,” he remarked, taking a few steps forward to inspect the device. “No one should be able to hack our channel. We’ll have to do a complete overhaul.” A hint of something like disappointment, maybe even frustration, crept into his tone, but it wasn’t directed at her. He paused, just seeming to remember that she had mentioned tinkering with the frequency, and looked up. “Do you think that would work?”
“Oh.” Good work, Stephanie Brown, putting your foot in your mouth again. If Steph’s jumpy answer did not point to some unresolved feelings between she and Tim, the blush crawling up her cheeks gave her away. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” She worried her bottom lip for a moment. In her time, she and Tim had come to a sort of consensus about their relationship. Or, at least, Steph decided that Tim Drake couldn’t be a point of weakness at the moment. They could work together, even be friendly, but she couldn’t do that again. Things were complicated in this Gotham though -- different timelines, alternate universes, even her relationship with Damian. Complicated to say the least.
She was glad, then, for the change of subject, even though discussing what happened with Riddler just a short time before wasn’t much better. Steph registered the disappointment in Bruce’s voice, however, and placed an arm on her hip. “I guess it does.” It was a tiny, delicate thing, the device, and black to match the rest of the Batfamily garb, and the technology looked more advanced than anything Nick had seen on his side of the door. But, Gotham required the newest, most high-tech weapons and devices, and maybe these comms weren’t it. “I thought maybe it might?” Frankly, she usually left the more complex tech stuff to Barbara, and just went around kicking asses. Nick, however, chirped in the back of her mind with his knowledge of all things techy. “But, yeah, the whole thing’s compromised. I don’t know if that would be enough. He’s...good, the Riddler. He hacked into my computer a couple weeks ago, too.” Crap, maybe she shouldn’t had said that. The cat was definitely out of the bag now.
As Stephanie’s relationship with Tim was not something he wanted to discuss, Bruce was more than willing to leave the subject behind and focus on what mattered. Originally, the Riddler had been largely dismissed as a minor threat at best, as those such as Crane and the Joker were more prone to destruction on a wide scale. The man’s skill with technology was formidable, however, more so than Bruce had realized, and despite his ridiculous clothing and childish riddles he had quickly realized that this particular foe had a surprisingly sharp mind. Arkham, for example, seemed to be constantly caught between them; every time Batman attempted to take control, the Riddler was there to seep his poison back into the security system and make a mockery of him. It was frustrating, to see the least, and an obstacle he was still in the process of overcoming. Lucius had handled most of the technological equipment, and without him, Bruce was doing the best he could with what he had. Physically, Batman dominated all his current opponents, but brute strength alone was not enough.
“If Riddler could hack into one current frequency,” he said, studying the minute device, “he may he able to hack into another, even if it’s modified.” Bruce stifled a sigh. They couldn’t communicate over an unsecure network, of course, but now this was one more thing to be added to a seemingly never-ending list, and he was already pressed for time with Luke’s increasingly busy life through the door. “I’d like to create all new devices, and start from scratch with the network, but that will take time. For now, altering the frequency and simply exercising caution with what we say may be best, unless we simply communicate through our own journals.” Bruce Wayne was not known for asking other people what they thought, or allowing others to make decisions for him, but he looked at Stephanie almost expectantly, as though giving her permission to say whatever she thought.
Steph crossed her arms and sighed quietly, kicking at an imaginary object on the floor. Time with Bruce rarely turned out well for her often. “I’d hate to give Good Ol’ Green a compliment, but he probably could. He ripped through St. Sebastian’s entire network with one of his viruses that night.” Purposefully vague, Steph hoped Bruce would just gloss over the rest of that night and not delve into details of what happened to her in the Riddler House. She looked up soon enough to catch his glance and offered him a thoughtful one. She shrugged. “The journals are probably safest compared to the comms. Less chance to get chatty while he might listen in, and I’m not sure he can hack into them like regular tech?” A pause as she chewed on the inside of her cheeks. “Or at least I hope not. Don’t know what kind of embarrassing secrets you’ve written in yours, and I’m sure Damian has poured his little heart all in his.” She regarded Bruce with the ghost of a smile. There Steph was, always with a joke.
Bruce frowned. It was the answer he had expected, though admittedly, not the one he’d hoped for. Riddler was proving to be more than just an irritable pest in green, but he was still only a man, regardless of how shrewd his mind might be. “I see,” he said, in a tone that suggested he only saw one option-- an entire rework of the network, which would take time. “Then we’ll use the journals for now, until a more secure network can be established. This time I’ll make sure its tested, to ensure it can withstand any more of Riddler’s attacks. As far as I know, the journals are unhackable, unless someone else manages to get ahold of it themselves.” Which, of course, would never happen; not with his, at least. Both he and Luke were far too cautious for that. Humor wasn't something he was well versed in, but he recognized Stephanie's joke for what it was and offered an equally faint smile in return a few seconds later.
It almost seemed as though he might leave it at that, but then his expression sobered again, and he regarded her with a grim sort of concern, usually reserved for instances when whatever he intended to say was of some importance. "Be careful with him, Stephanie." Bruce doubted he needed to specify who the 'he' was referring to. "He seems fixated on you more so than the rest of us, and I don't want a repeat of what happened that night at the hospital." Not quite a lecture, and not stern either, but he was firm.
Stephanie nodded, Bruce’s words only confirming what she suspected to begin with: that the entire network needed an overhaul, that the journals would be safe, that he would fix just another one of her flubs. There you go, Stephanie Brown, messing everything up again. Ignoring that vicious little voice in the back of her head reminding her of how much of a screw-up she was, she seemed to agree with his plan and did appreciate his returned smile. At least he was trying.
Then he had to give her that look. Oh, god, that Wayne look of concern and slight disappointment that said ‘Well, I’m here to tell you what you did wrong and what you should have done.’ Damian got that face every now and then, too, but it seemed worse from Bruce. “I have it under control,” she said of Riddler and his teasing antics. She didn’t, not really, but she refused to let anyone know how much the man in the green was affecting her. “That night after the hospital was just a once in a lifetime deal. Lots of different factors, blah, blah, blah.”
In this, at least, Bruce didn’t view the Riddler’s infiltration of their network as a failing on Stephanie’s part; rather, he saw it as a failure on his own. In his defense, many of the villains here didn’t exist in his Gotham, yet that was not an excuse. He should have been prepared regardless. As harsh as he was on others, he was his own worst critic.
He hardly expected Stephanie to admit that she was in over her head, and Bruce had said similar words so often in the past that there wasn’t even the slightest chance that he would believe them coming from her. He always had things under control, even when he didn’t at all, and he recognized that trait existed in every member of his little Bat-Family. Admitting to needing help was never easy, and he knew that all too well. “What sort of factors?” His tone was mild, but Bruce wasn’t letting her off this easily. Not when it was her life which hung in the balance. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, but these things can spiral out of control very easily.”
“Uh, lots.” Stephanie ran a gloved hand through her hair while she gave a ragged sigh. “Nicholas -- he’s my Las Vegas person, remember? -- he still hasn’t been sleeping much at all. His brother and all. Riddler just caught me when I didn’t get a chance to fix that.” She worried her lip for a moment before shrugging. “But, like I said, I’ve got it under control. Don’t worry.” Despite what Bruce said, she worried he didn’t find her worthy at all. Riddler hadn’t only done a number on her physically, but mentally as well. All the self-esteem issues that she conquered came crawling back with a vicious bite. Everyone doubted her, and everything was against her.
Still, she grinned up at him, all of that trademark Stephanie Brown sunshine trying to cover all the self-doubt up. “I can’t let a nerd like the Riddler get away with that anyway. I have a reputation to uphold, and what will the fanboys say?”
Oh yes, Bruce remembered Alexander Pierce all too well. He was aware of the part Luke had played in the boy’s demise, of course, and he wondered how much Stephanie knew, and how much Nicholas knew himself. But he didn’t ask, and instead simply nodded, acknowledgement that her other through the door was coping with a great deal of stress. “Even in Las Vegas, things are difficult,” he sighed. Luke and those he knew had a great deal of problems, and none seemed very good at solving them. As for her having it under control, he gave her a long, searching look, but decided not to push. He would simply keep an eye on her from now on, and go from there. “You should know that I always worry, regardless of what anyone tells me,” he said dryly, but after a moment he sobered again. “I hope you do, Stephanie,” he said, of her having everything under control. Sooner or later, he would discover whether that was true for himself, one way or another.
There was a moment of hesitation, during which he looked at her with something akin to exasperation before relenting and offering his version of a smile. “The fanboys would rally behind you no matter what, I’m sure.” He looked down at the device in his hand and, since there was nothing left to say, returned to the task at hand. “Would you like to help me with this?”
Stephanie knew any version of Bruce would worry, though about what she was never sure. Was he really concerned about his ‘birds’, as Selina dubbed the kids that rallied around Batman and his symbol, or was it more about bringing justice to those that deserved it? She could never pinpoint it with him. There were days where she felt he really cared about her, and other days where she felt like a ragdoll for bringing vengeance. Still, she nodded and tried her best reassuring smile when he expressed his hope. “Scout’s honor, Bruce,” she said, saluting him with three fingers.
The exasperation amused her, and she barely succeeded in stifling a rogue giggle. She always did enjoy getting reactions like that out of the Dark Knight. “Yeah, of course,” she said with a warm smile, sidling closer to him and inspecting the piece of tech in his hand. Okay, he wanted her help. That was a good sign, right? Maybe he was beginning to trust her more. “Maybe we can finally have it in purple, too. It really brings out my eyes, y’know.”