Tim Drake / Callie Noon (ex_thisismym190) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2014-01-15 22:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | door: dc comics, red robin, stephanie brown |
WHO: Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake
WHERE: A Gotham rooftop
WHEN: After this
WHAT: They talk about Damian and sad all around.
RATING: Sads and feels for Damian.
STATUS: log; complete
Tim remembered the days when he attempted to lead a double life, being both himself and Robin at the same time, and how difficult it was to juggle both. Now he basically gave up on being anyone other than Robin in their world, because he literally had a second life. It just belonged to a girl named Callie. She was scared now that Damian died, and he knew she thought about refusing to go through the door. It was difficult to hide those ideas when they both floated somewhat in a common space. But he took what he could get, and this time he walked through the door and just didn't want to go back to the manor. He'd been there every moment he could since Damian died, but none of it was helping. His family was full of ghosts, or haunted by ghosts, at the moment. The streets were a welcome change. The criminals always seemed to know when the Bats were off their game. They sensed it, like sharks scenting blood, and Tim apprehended two robbers within his first hour outside. They were more scared of him than usual, wanting to run instead of fight, and he assumed it was because of Firefly. There had to be rumors. He dropped them both in the street, tied up and ready to be taken in by the police, and then swung his way back to the rooftops. He felt the fury in him, mixed with adrenaline, wishing there was a way to purge it out of his system. Of all the regrets the family had at the moment, he doubted his was at the top, but they still ate away at him. Tim, who didn't give Damian a real chance. Tim, who didn't think Damian deserved to be Robin. That was the type of guilt not easily punched away. So making his way through Gotham cleaned up a few streets, but it wasn't going to make anything better. Tim sighed and took a seat on the side of a rooftop, looking over Gotham. His dark and corrupt home. He couldn't help think of what Babs said about leaving, going to another city, starting over for real. But leaving Gotham? That was cutting a part of himself out. And they didn't need to be down one or two more Bats around here. The rooftop was specifically one that he and Steph used to meet at, back when they worked together. He was relieved she agreed to come, because he wanted to check on her, but it felt weird to ask. There was still this giant hole between them. Damian's death was a reminder that things were final even here. Stephanie was an unmitigated wreck. She tried her best to hide it when she had to, but most of the time was spent curled up in her bed or out on patrols expending some pent-up energy. She tried her best to put on a brave face for Eddie, at least, who barely knew how to deal with something as complicated as grief. Hell, she barely knew how to deal with it herself. Still, she could feel herself slowly , very slowly drifting away from him. Not that she didn’t love Eddie, nor that she didn’t trust him. No one understood the kind of heartache ripping through her chest now that her baby bird was gone, not even her riddled man. And, as much as he tried and tried to help, nothing would assuage the pain that such a loss brought. Not any bit of his overwhelming love for her could change the fact that Damian was dead. So, though not entirely of her own volition, she was withdrawing into herself. Quietly picking at dinner, lackadaisically sprawling over the couch as Bandit brushed against her dangling hand, staying in bed for what seemed like days before finally going out at night to patrol. Most of the time, Stephanie felt a hollowness she hadn’t known since the first time she thought she had lost her father and sudden licks of anger that took over her entire body. A grieving Stephanie Brown was a bundle of emotions with nowhere to place them all and no way to express them constructively. Aside from tackling down some goons. That night, when Tim asked for help, she capitulated for only a few moments before slipping out of the apartment without saying goodbye to Eddie. She justified it by not wanting to distract him from his work, but really she just needed to do this on her own. She didn’t really consider how hypocritical it all was, just after their argument of sharing everything. After mercilessly taking down a couple of jackasses trying to loot some mom and pop’s near the GPD, the blonde bat made her way to the designated rooftop where they had met so many times before in the other Gotham. Stephanie never really called it her Gotham anymore because this one they lived in now should feel like home. But the loss of Damian made this place feel so different that she didn’t know if she wanted this Gotham to be it much longer. As she landed on the rooftop behind Tim with a thud, she wondered if he would ever call this new place home. “Hi, boy wonder,” she said softly to his back. She was in full Batgirl regalia, something this Tim hadn’t seen yet. “Enjoying the view?” The playful banter felt strange on her tongue these days, even with him. Even with Eddie. It didn’t seem right to let herself enjoy life when Damian didn’t have a chance anymore. Tim had a good sense of his surroundings, even when absorbed in his thoughts, so he was aware when someone came up behind him. He glanced around, his muscles tensing just in case, but he recognized her quickly. He hadn't seen her in the costume yet, and he couldn't help it, it made him smile. "Hey there, Batgirl." He smiled because he knew what it meant to her, how hard she worked for that. He knew what it was like to take pride in the mantle, as if wearing the Bat symbol made them into something more than human. And it did, in a way, except they were human. They were subject to death and pain and grief like anyone else. He took to wearing something similar to his Red Robin costume, since he could not be called Robin anymore, and at the moment he wouldn't want to be. It was similar though, and closer to the costume he chose after Conner died, in part to honor his friend. That was just one of many losses. His mother, his father, Conner, Bart, Steph for awhile, and then Bruce. Now Damian. He almost wished there was a way to shut out all that grief, but it never got any easier. Why could it never get any easier? At least he learned this time and didn't immediately kick and push away everyone who mattered to him. Not that it seemed to make a difference. He got to his feet and approached her, crossing arms against his chest. "It looks good on you. The title. Well and the suit too." Tim checked the roof before he stood on it for any cameras or surveillance, it was clean even here, so he pushed back his cowl. It was easier to hide behind it, when things were tough, but he really wasn't feeling like keeping secrets. "Steph." He stopped a respectful distance away from her, not quite in her personal space. "I know you were close to him. I know … this is all so screwed up. So. How are you? I know you're not … okay." None of them were okay. Stephanie couldn’t help the proud smile that blossomed across her lips when he complimented her. She tugged on one of the ears of the mask just a little self-consciously, and she was glad that this time, this Tim wasn’t so outraged seeing her in costume. That was ugly, back in the old Gotham with another Tim, but she was determined to make things better here with him. Especially after the last Tim started to hate her because of her relationship with a rogue. Stephanie didn’t want it to end up being anything like that now. Everything was falling apart, and they needed all the support they could get. “Are you hitting on me, Drake? I’m a taken woman,” she teased. Stephanie was always an expert deflector, and as much as she craved a familiarity with Tim, it didn’t come that easily. Face falling, she cleared her throat and shrugged, kicking at a little bit of loose gravel with her heavy combat boots. “Fine,” she managed. “I’m fine.” If she couldn’t talk about her grief with Eddie comfortably, was she allowed to do so with her ex-boyfriend? Steph feared that he understood that more. He was worried she went back to being a vigilante, after what they went through, he had good reason to be worried. He lost her once already, and it nearly drove him crazy with grief. But Tim was a lot better at self-reflection these days. He understood the drive to do this work, regardless of the dangers. He didn't have the right to tell her no. The thought of her with Riddler though, that still turned his stomach, and he really preferred not to think about it. Tim promised he wouldn't hate her, and he didn't imagine he could, he'd been angry sure, not hateful. But he sure as hell wouldn't stop disliking the guy who tried to kill him and his family. Still, he kept the peace. There was nothing he could do about it. "I'm pretty sure you were usually the one who hit on me," he teased, because dragging up memories came more naturally. Steph spent months flirting with him, but he was in a relationship at the time. Still he was always tempted. Those were the old days. Innocent days. Tim gave her a skeptical look and sighed. "Yeah, sure, we're all fine. That's why no one is talking." After a beat he smiled wryly. "Well we don't really talk much even when we are fine." The Bat Family was the stoic type. "I wanted to see how you were. Seriously." Stephanie was stubborn enough not to take into consideration anyone else’s worry. That was how she got involved in all of this in the first place, wasn’t it? And, her time beyond this door, in this Gotham proved yet again that she could never quit. She hung up the cowl for a while, and it was during that time that she had gotten close to Eddie in more than just a former rogue and bat kind of way. Even with him in her life, however, she couldn’t stay away from it. Swinging through the Gotham sky, stopping criminals in their tracks, helping spread hope to the darkest parts of their city. She couldn’t give any of that up. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t aware of Tim’s (or anyone else’s) worries. She just superseded them with her own desires and stupid bravery. She smiled again, first looking down, then glancing back up. “I think I forgot that detail. Who could blame me though?” After a brief hesitation, she finally took off her cowl, too. Her blonde hair, which always managed a controlled sort of messiness, brushed just past her shoulders now, and her smile was tentative at best. Heartbroken flickers across her lips betrayed how she really felt. She shrugged. “Shouldn’t we get used to this by now? Everything we’ve lost.” She took a step forward and waved her hand at the skyline ahead of them. “Shouldn’t it have gotten easier by now. Eddie--” She started, then paused. Eddie wasn’t really a subject that they should be discussing. Shaking her head, she continued. “You’d think a place like this would make grief obsolete.” When his father found out about the cowl, he was furious. He was mad with worry and fear. He made Tim quit, for a time. That was when Stephanie took his place. A situation he felt a lot of guilt over, since Bruce using her that way caused pain for them both long term. But the work was what Tim wanted. He couldn't have a normal life. So this place, it was just more of the same. Any facade of a normal life was lost to him. He didn't have his friends or the Titans here. But none of that would stop him. So he got it. He really did. He was determined and relentless in his own way. "I can honestly say not many people could surprise me as much as you during those first few months. In a good way." Tim knew those days were gone, and most of the time, he was actually okay with it. He did walk away from her and the others, and he thought they were over. So did she. He might not be comfortable with her choice of a new boyfriend, but her moving on? That was expected. They were always friends first. Friends and partners, not unlike Babs and Dick, they managed to stay okay with each other after everything went wrong. He grew somber when she took off the cowl and he could see her face, see how much pain she was concealing. "No, I don't think we're ever used to it. It's probably best that we aren't." Tim looked tired more than anything else, although his eyes had no small amount of sadness in them. Damian Wayne was gone. Things weren't going to be the same. "I know that sounds strange to say, there was definitely a time after the deaths added up, when my dad ...." God it still hurt. "I wanted to not feel anything. But then I think about how he needed someone to miss him. He deserved to be grieved. If I didn't feel that way, who would he have?" He rubbed a hand through his hair, self-conscious, never really good at any of this. Dick was the more empathic one. Even Jason was more emotional in his own way. Tim was the most like Bruce. "Weird thing to think, huh?" The corner of Stephanie’s mouth lifted, and a year or so ago, all his nice words would twist a pang of longing in her heart. Tim would always mean something to her; first, real loves always did. Now, however, all she wanted was a confidant, someone who actually knew her before this door the way Damian had. She wanted her friend back. Any sort of lingering feelings were quashed when Eddie cornered her at that Christmas party last year, when he told her he loved her on that dirty Gotham rooftop, when he saved her life more times than she could count. Tim mattered, but in a different way now. She licked her lips nervously, then pursued them as she listened. He was right, she knew that objectively, but the little blonde bat wanted nothing more than to wipe grief and pain from the entire planet at that moment. Sure, she told Kara that there had to be bad with the good, and she told Eddie that the bad made the good feel more worth it, but what did that mean at the end of the day? Couldn’t, for one day, all the bad take a vacation? Couldn’t she get her baby bird back? She dared to take a step forward, sighing. She detected the fatigue in his eyes and his frame immediately, even in the dim lighting. Knowing someone like Stephanie knew Tim Drake made things like that second nature. And, she knew how hard Tim took his father’s death. Worse, probably, than she took hers. “I know like, it’s keeping us human or whatever. And it means he matters--mattered. Matters.” She stuttered on the crack in her voice, on the tense, but Damian was still present to her, and he would always matter. Now that he was closer, he could see how drained she was by the sadness herself. Purple bags under her eyes as dark as the purple of her suit, blue eyes bloodshot red, shoulders sagged. “But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make me want him back any less.” As she turned away for a moment, to look at the Gotham night sky, she pressed her fingers to her mouth, exhaling deep and hard. It was the first time in a few days she addressed how much all of this hurt. She hated feeling this vulnerable in front of anyone, let alone her ex-boyfriend. It was hard navigating exes when it came to also working together, and being part of the same family unit. But none of them were strangers to it, and it'd been going on for awhile. From the Justice League down to the Teen Titans to the every day vigilantes, they all got their personal lives mucked up together. Tim dealt with plenty of teen drama in his day, if not with Steph, with the Titans. Most of the time, they got through it by holding on to their real purpose. It mattered more than the petty stuff. And Steph being part of his family, that mattered more. Relationships came and went. The Bats stayed together. "Steph," Tim said softly when he saw her face. She looked terrible, and that soft part of his heart made just for her lurched, wanting nothing more than to make it go away. It hurt to see Bruce - or not see Bruce - and Dick basically being a ghost himself. Alfred's silence and stiff upper lip. Jason ran off, who knows where he went. So that meant it was the two of them left standing at the moment, trying to pick up the pieces. But Tim didn't love Damian, not the way all of them did. They needed help. She needed help. "I wish we could take it back. I swear if I could, short of a lazarus pit, I would do anything to bring him back." Yes he had to add the lazarus pit in there, because he knew it existed here. He knew it had to go through all of their minds, and it wasn't taken for a reason. One he agreed with. Tim ignored his hesitation and put his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Nothing more, nothing less, because they were the two standing, and they could probably use it. "I'm sorry I can't make it hurt less," he told her softly, "I'm sorry he's gone." The family tended to deal with the aftermath of of a disaster in similar ways -- they all withdrew or boiled up in anger or found so many different ways to not deal with it. They were all very good at finding ways to avoid their problems. Weren’t donning capes and cowls just ways to dodge feelings, too? Stephanie did that, when her father had rebooted his life of crime, instead of using proper outlets. They all were guilty of it. So, it was difficult, to say the least, for any of them to actually face what was happening. The blonde bat included. “No one wants to use it anyway,” she replied, obviously conflicted about that. The image of Jason crawling out of the Pit was still tattooed on her mind, as was that sickening shade of green dripping into her eyes, over her nose, across her mouth, but what if that could bring back the baby bird? What if he could be okay after it all? She knew it wasn’t fair to even consider it, but she did. She considered it. Still, her wall started to crumble just a little when he said her name like that, and she bit away a wibble of her bottom lip. When his arms wrapped around him, she stiffened for the fraction of a second before she slipped her arms around him too, resting her chin on his shoulder. She took a shuddering breath in and squeezed tighter when he continued, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “It’s not your fault,” she hiccupped out, voice cracking on tears threatening to fall. It was funny that Eddie had promised the same thing after she begged him to fix it all, but Stephanie knew even then that nothing could be done. Her fingers dug into the grooves of the kevlar, reaching and reaching for something human underneath all of that. Without thinking, she buried her face in his chest and squeezed her eyes shut. Breathing deep and long to keep the teetering waterworks at bay. The Bat Family did have a special way of using denial and shutting off emotions to keep sane in the worst of times. Tim couldn't say he ever reacted to the things in his life in what one might call a "healthy" way. He wasn't sure what healthy was, if there was a way for them to react to the crazy situations they found themselves in maturely. Shutting themselves down or running from problems were the status quo. He did the same. He couldn't see an alternative. If they actually faced it and talked, what then? It woudn't change anything. "Yeah, I figured they would've already done it. If we thought he wanted it and he'd come out all right, that'd be one thing, but ...." Obviously it didn't turn out that way. Tim figured it was too much of a risk. Damian was a little unstable to begin with, and if he came out psychotic, they would have to deal with him. That would only prolong everyone's suffering. But that was logical. He knew logic wasn't coming into play here, she wanted her friend and brother back. Tim didn't know what he was capable of, if he had a lazarus pit handy and one of his loved ones dead at his feet. He tried to re-clone Conner. So his hands weren't exactly clean on ambiguous decisions in the face of grief. "It's not your fault either." He hugged her tight and closed his eyes, leaning into the embrace, taking comfort from it too. They both needed it. Tim knew she was holding back, he understood it too well. Their anger and fear and sadness, it was in the house and every face he saw, and everything was brimming near the surface. People didn't always come back. They weren't all Superman or even Bruce. "It's okay to let it out. Sometimes it's the only thing we can do." He remembered sobbing in Bruce's arms, looking at his father's body, and knowing his life would never be the same again. This was the world they lived in. Stephanie shook her head against his chest. She didn’t want to even consider talking about the Lazarus Pit. She knew where one was, and if she had access to it, she might have done something incredibly stupid that first night. But, she was the one who had yelled at Damian about even considering the Pit at some point, and she couldn’t ever violate him like she had helped do to Jason, or Eddie and Selina had done to Dick. Or what Eddie had done to her. So, she shook her head once, mumbled a quiet never into kevlar before shaking her head again. Because, she didn’t want to let go, not in front of him. It wasn’t right, was it? Not when she could even let go in front of Eddie anymore without feeling stupidly guilty about it. Fingers dug into kevlar again, and she shook her head one more time. “‘M fine,” she muttered against his chest, but it was hardly convincing. There were a few sniffs, and another shudder of her body in his arms. She felt so small then, so young and stupid, and she wished, just for a blip, that they could all turn back time to before this goddamn Gotham ever existed. A sob bubbled out, and Stephanie groaned, retracting one hand to wipe at her eyes as she pulled back just a little from him. Enough to press her palm into one of her eyes as if it would plug up the tears all together. Tim thought it was dangerous to have lazarus pits at all. Because of what a temptation they were, sure, and what could happen to the people placed there in a moment of panic. But also because if someone like Lex got his hands on one, that would be incredibly dangerous. If it was up to him, they'd just destroy them and be done with it. He figured if that was on the table, they would've done it already. Tim wasn't the sort of person who went off book a lot. He was a leader of his team, but when it came to Gotham, he followed Bruce's lead. If Bruce continued shutting himself inside, he might have to take more on his shoulders to balance it out. That was what he'd been trained and prepared for, wasn't it? "It's okay to not be fine. No one's fine." He knew Steph learned a long time ago to be tough and not let her vulnerability show. She was like that when they first met, with all her shields up, even if she tried to be flirty and confident in front of him. He rubbed her back with comforting strokes and not for the first time wished they could go back too. Tim was almost on his way to accepting he was stuck there for now. But it didn't stop him from missing their home. Things were tough there, this could've happened there too, but he felt ridiculously disconnected here, from everyone. Maybe that was partly his fault too. He was keeping them at arms length. Even Steph, especially Steph. It was probably time to grow up a little and remember who he was. This wasn't his home, but he was still Tim Drake. "You know with our utility belt and all our toys, you'd think we would have some kind of tissue in there." He wasn't going to pressure her to cry, if she didn't want to, so he joked to lighten the mood a little. Tim brushed a hand to his eyes too. He wasn't crying, but there was burning there, and the beginning of them. He learned a long time ago to hold it in. It was difficult being surrounded with this much grief and not sharing in it. He hurt for them. “I miss him so much,” she choked out, finally letting a few tears slip down her cheeks. “It’s so fucked up. He shouldn’t be gone.” She didn’t want to agree with him about not being fine. She wanted to be fine. To numb out of all this mourning and just move on. Stephanie bubbled out a sound that toed the line between strangled sob and sad laughter. Here Tim was, comforting her when they were both hurting so badly. She shoved lightly at his chest, laughing again and shaking her head against him. The family was good at deflecting things with humor, too. Wasn’t that just another symptom of growing up in Gotham? Being able to infuse humor even in the darkest of times. “Or maybe we should just get our tear ducts removed. Bats don’t cry, didn’t you know?” A gloved hand swiped at tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “We’re all scowls or bad jokes for jerks that don’t get it anyway.” She squeezed him tightly again, one more time before stepping out of the embrace. It didn’t feel as wrong as it should have, but she and Tim were always friends first. That was what he would be again. A friend, and a support. Her hands still rested on his shoulders for a second before she cupped his cheek, brushing her gloved thumb back and forth for a second. Her eyes were still glassy, and her cheeks were red with suppressed tears and rough, kevlared swipes, but she smiled softly. “Thanks,” she said quietly, hands falling all at once, but she didn’t step away from him. He hadn’t taken away the pain, but he calmed the rocky waters for a moment. "I know. And you're going to keep missing him." Tim nodded and kept rubbing her back soothingly. "One day you're going to remember a conversation with him, and it's going to hurt all over again, but you'll smile. And the next time you think about it, it'll hurt less." He was speaking from experience, it was clear in the way he was talking about it. "It'll never stop completely, but he's always with you, Steph. He loved you and you loved him. That doesn't make it better right now, I get it." Tim smiled when she laughed, but they were both humorless about it, it was a flash of light in the middle of the darkness. That's where they lived. They were surrounded by grays, so humor was the only way to brighten it up. "We could make it part of the Bat contract. If we had one, it'd definitely include a lack of tear ducts. Also that everyone obeys Alfred and we have a specific amount of smiles allowed per week." Dick was the one who taught him this. Tim was not as naturally light hearted as his brother; he had the snark in him, but he was usually more serious, especially with other people. Dick made everyone laugh. Right now he wasn't laughing, so Tim would do it for him. Tim squeezed back when she did, knowing that it meant they'd break apart soon, and who knew when he'd have the chance to do it again. She was one of the few people he was comfortable showing physical affection with, so he'd take it when he could. Kon and Bart were gone. That was the end of his sad little list. He looked back at her, his eyes also slightly glassy and red, from holding back the tears that didn't fall for him. Damian was an open wound for everyone, for different reasons. "Any time." Tim leaned down and kissed the top of her head, but it wasn't an ex-boyfriend's gesture. It was what he did with Babs, or Cassie, in their world, his family. That's who she was to him now. And it worked. "So do you want to kick some ass now? Because that's also something Bats do best." Stephanie smiled up at him as well. “You had to sign a contract? Shit, I guess I’m really not official after all,” she teased, willing the weight and darkness away for a few moments. Long enough for both of them to wipe their eyes dry and catch their breath. “It’s a good thing I didn’t sign any dotted lines, I’d break all those rules in a day.” She sniffed, rubbing away the remnants of tears underneath her eyes and blowing out a hard, deep breath from between her lips. The kiss to the top of her head startled her for a moment, and she looked up at him with wide blue eyes. Appreciative of his readiness to comfort her and his willingness to navigate their precarious past to meet her in the middle. She cracked another smile. It didn’t feel weird, for once beyond this door, to be around him. “I’m always ready to serve a can of whoop-ass, boy wonder. First one to fill up their goon punchcard tonight wins.” With a quick kiss to his cheek, she pulled her cowl over her head and was off. Running ahead with no other preamble besides a wink over her shoulder. |