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“We’ve got reports of about two dozen comatose patients across Gotham,” Bruce says. “No fatalities, but only four have woken up. They’ve all reported experiencing nightmares that played on their deepest fears and insecurities.”
“Sounds like Scarecrow, then.” Tim leans over the back of Bruce’s chair to look at the monitor. “We’re lucky none of them have gone into cardiac arrest.”
“I wouldn’t call it luck,” Steph says.
“Why not?” Tim frowns over at her.
“Scarecrow’s a scientist. He studies fear.” Steph is met with two blank stares. Sighing heavily, she continues. “He can’t learn anything from comatose people if they die before they wake up.”
Bruce hums and turns back to the monitor.
“Well, if he wants to study the effects, he’d need access to the hospital files.” Tim reaches over Bruce’s shoulder and taps a few keys. “Hey Oracle, think you can check the local hospitals for data breaches?”
Babs laughs on the other end of the line. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Tim and Steph laugh, and even Bruce snorts at that.
“Am I looking for anything in particular?”
“Anyone accessing the files for the sixteen comatose patients. Then see if you can backtrace the source, we’re looking for Scarecrow’s hideout.”
“On it. Shouldn’t take long, I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks O,” Tim says before closing the line.
Bruce gets up and heads toward the lockers. “Get ready to head out as soon as Oracle has the information.”
“Yessir,” Steph says. “And you’re welcome.”
Cass meets them at the warehouse, waving to Steph from an adjacent roof.
“We go in on my signal,” Bruce growls over the comm. “Red Robin on the west side, Black Bat on the south, Spoiler on the east. I’ll go in through the north side. I’m reading heat signatures for a small group of people in the southeast corner, possibly civilians. A few others are moving around some sort of equipment along the west side.”
“There’s a door on the east wall,” Steph says. “I can get the civilians out through there.”
“I’ll cover you,” Cass says.
“Understood. Everyone in position?” Bruce waits for affirmative responses from the rest of them. “On my mark. Go.”
Steph swings down, crashing feet-first through a window on the east wall. She lands in a roll, popping to her feet and running toward the southeast corner. Six people are huddled behind a chain link fence that’s secured with a padlock.
Steph kneels down in front of the lock, getting to work. Behind her, she can hear Cass taking down anyone who gets close.
“Don’t worry,” Steph says, glancing up at the civilians as she picks the lock and offering them a smile. “We’re gonna get you out of here. Anyone been dosed with anything yet?”
“Um, no,” a young woman says.
“That’s great.” Steph pops the lock open, yanking the chain away and pulling the gate open. “Come with me, I’m gonna get you out of here.”
Steph stands, turning to head toward the side door. Cass has her hands full a few yards away, and Tim and Bruce are on the far side of the warehouse, surrounded by smashed lab equipment. She herds the civilians toward the door, holding it open for them to escape.
“Spoiler,” Tim yells across the warehouse.
Steph whirls to see Scarecrow barrelling toward her. She shoves the last civilian, a teenage boy, behind her as he closes the distance. There isn’t even enough time for her to raise her arms before a needle jabs into her neck.
Steph wakes in a dark room. Well, ‘wakes’ might not be the best word for it. ‘Room’ might not be either, because there’s no floor or walls. Just an endless expanse of darkness. She looks around, surprised to find herself standing.
“Oh, you fucked up big time,” a voice says. Steph turns, finding herself face-to-face with her own image.
“Letting yourself get injected with fear toxin? That’s just embarrassing.” The other Steph grins, a cruel glint in her eyes.
“Who are you?”
“I’m you, obviously.” The other Steph spreads her arms, showing off her faded jeans, worn out sneakers, and purple t-shirt.
“No you’re not.” Steph crosses her arms. “You’re just some phantom version my brain cooked up. I guess you’re here to torment me with all my worst nightmares, huh?” She rolls her eyes. “So what’s it gonna be? Heights, giant spiders, a pit of snakes? Or maybe you’ll just go old school and we can take a tour of all my traumatic memories.”
Phantom Steph sighs, lips twisting into a sympathetic smile. “I don’t need to cover you in spiders or throw you off a ledge,” she says. “I know what you’re really afraid of. And I don’t need to make that up. You and I both know it’s already true.”
“That what’s already true?” Steph settles her hands on her hips, glaring at her phantom double. “That I’m standing naked in front of my class?”
“No. That’s not what you’re afraid of.” Phantom Steph’s voice is quiet and soothing, but her eyes gleam with delight. “Everyone else knows, too. That’s why they won’t just say it and save you the embarrassment of figuring it out later.”
“Figuring what out? Stop being so vague and just say what you mean.”
“That none of them actually care about you.” Phantom Steph moves forward, holding eye contact. “They never really wanted you around to begin with. None of them. Not your parents, not Tim, not Cass. Especially not Bruce.”
“Why should I listen to you? This isn’t even real,” Steph says. “This is just Scarecrow’s toxin fucking with my head.”
“Right, because you were clumsy enough to get dosed.” Phantom Steph spreads her hands as if to say see? What did I tell you?
“I was protecting the civilians,” Steph snarls.
“Right, right, of course.” Phantom Steph puts on a mock-sympathetic expression. “And I’m sure Batman understands that. I’m sure he’s not gearing up to lecture you once you wake up. No, he’ll just be so happy you’re okay.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
Phantom Steph grins. “Oh, you don’t remember? I guess I’ll have to jog your memory.”
The blackness around them shifts, revealing a small room in a clinic. There’s a blonde girl lying on the table, face bloodied and bruised. Batman is beside her, holding her hand as she dies.
“That—” Steph chokes on her words. “Why—”
“He never cared about you,” Phantom Steph hisses gleefully. She leans over Steph's shoulder, watching the scene. “Remember the months after Jason died? How Batman lost it, how he tore Gotham apart with his grief? Tim’s told you how bad it was, how much losing Jason destroyed him.”
Steph’s breathing hitches as the monitor flatlines.
“Everyone knows how protective Batman is of his Robins,” Phantom Steph continues, propping her chin on Steph’s shoulder. “But not you. No, he just let you go. Leslie faked your death to teach him a lesson he couldn’t even be bothered to learn. You meant nothing to him.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? He never wanted you as his Robin in the first place. You were just a nuisance, some brat trying to fill an empty spot. You barely lasted two months before he fired you. And then you ran off and got yourself killed, and he was free of you.”
“That’s not true.” Steph whirls around, shoving Phantom Steph away.
“Of course it is. Don’t lie to yourself.” Phantom Steph places a comforting hand on Steph’s arm, at odds with the grin on her face. “No one wanted Spoiler around, and you couldn’t hack it as Robin. I’m sure Tim was glad to have his mantle back, and Cass finally had someone who could keep up with her. They mourned you, sure, but that’s just what you do when someone dies.”
“You’re lying,” Steph yells, yanking her arm away. “None of this is true, it’s just the fear toxin. Tim and Cass are my friends. And it’s not just them, it’s Damian and Duke, Jason and Dick. They— they’re family.”
“Oh Steph,” Phantom Steph sighs. “You’re not family, not to them. You’re… well, you’re just the annoying neighbor kid who can’t take the hint that none of them want to play with you.”
“That’s not true,” Steph’s voice cracks on the last word, and hot tears spill down her cheeks. “Cass made me Batgirl.”
“True.” Phantom Steph nods. “But you couldn’t even make it as Batgirl, could you? No, you gave up the title and slunk back to being Spoiler with your tail tucked between your legs.”
“I passed on the mantle,” Steph yells. “I chose to be Spoiler again.”
“And it’s a good thing you did. Tiffany’s already shaping up to be a better Batgirl than you ever were. At least you saved Bruce the effort of having to fire you again.”
“Shut up!”
“No.” Phantom Steph leans in, their noses almost touching. “Someone needs to tell you this. You’re making a fool of yourself, acting like you deserve to be one of them. Like you’re good enough to stand beside Batman and Robin. You’ve never been worthy of that, and you know it. Or do I need to remind you where you came from?”
She grabs Steph by the shoulders and turns her around to face a familiar closet. The door is yanked open, light spilling across the coats and shoes.
“I’m sorry,” a little girl sobs as she’s thrown in. Her shirt is stained with spilled juice, and a bruise is swelling up around her left eye.
“I don’t give a damn if you’re sorry,” Arthur Brown snarls. He slams the door, plunging the closet into darkness.
Steph falls to her knees beside the little girl, curled up into a ball and failing to smother her sobs. She reaches out to comfort her, but her hand passes right through.
“This is who you are, Stephanie Brown. Useless, pathetic, the daughter of an equally worthless criminal. You’re never going to be anything more than that scared little girl in the closet, waiting for someone to come save her. It’s sad, really.”
Steph wipes at her face, tears smearing across her cheeks. “Don’t you dare pity me.” She stands, turning to face the phantom version of herself.
“Oh, did I upset you?” Phantom Steph jeers. “Are you mad now?”
“Yeah, I am.” Steph squares her shoulders, lifting her chin. “That little girl you pity, that you think never had a chance? She’s gonna make something of herself. She’s going to be a hero. And it’s not gonna be because of where she came from, or because Batman told her she could.”
Steph advances on the phantom, getting up in her face. “I got myself out. I took that scared little girl in the closet and I made her brave. I made her powerful and beautiful and kind. I made myself Spoiler, no one handed that to me. Everything I am, I gave that to myself. And if you don’t think that’s worth admiring, you can get fucked.”
As Steph roars those last words, the visions of her past fade out, leaving her and Phantom Steph standing alone in the darkness.
“You think that makes you special?” Phantom Steph says, cocking one eyebrow.
“No, I don’t.” Steph shakes her head, laughing under her breath. “I’m just a girl who decided something needed to be done. Someone else could’ve done it, I know that. Who cares?”
“You don’t?”
“Nope.” Steph shrugs. “I was worth something in that closet, and I’m worth something now. I’ve been Spoiler, Robin, and Batgirl. I’m Stephanie Brown. I’m enough.”
Phantom Steph narrows her eyes. “You don’t really believe that.”
“I don’t.” Steph smirks. “But I will eventually. If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I’ve turned ‘fake it til you make it’ into an art form.”
“You’ll fail.”
Steph laughs, loud and bright. “When has that ever stopped me?”
Steph wakes up to stupidly bright lights glaring down at her. She scrunches up her face and grumbles.
“You’re awake!”
“Five more minutes.” Steph rolls on her side, squishing her face into the pillow.
Tim laughs. “You’ve been in a coma for nearly twelve hours, you’ve had enough sleep.”
“Blasphemy,” Steph mumbles, rolling onto her back and squinting up at him. Cass appears on her other side, reaching out to stroke her hair.
“We made an antidote. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Mmm, good. Where’s everyone else?”
“B and Duke are delivering the antidote to the hospitals,” Tim says. “Dick and Jason are out checking for any victims that couldn’t make it to the hospital.”
“Damian?”
Tim and Cass’s faces light up with matching grins.
“See for yourself.” Cass nods over to the corner of the cave’s infirmary.
Steph sits up, spotting Damian sound asleep in a chair, a blanket draped over him.
“He refused to leave until you woke up.”
“Aww.” Steph flops back into bed. “Tell Dick I’ve usurped him as Damian’s favorite.”
Tim laughs. “Sure.”
Cass perches on the side of the bed, smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks, Cass.” Steph smiles up at her.
“I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Tim adds. “Except be a lot more depressed and boring, probably.”
Steph laughs. “You’re not getting rid of me any time soon, Boy Wonder.”
“Good.”