Work Text:
His hands are trembling. Stephanie is not used to that. She swallows a lump in her throat and it hurts to do so.
A horrible night. A dead child had been thrown at their feet with a laugh, along with a promise of more to come, and it seems neither can get the thought out of their head. They sit quietly watching the stars.
Tim’s hands are shaking terribly. Stephanie knows what will happen if she goes to hold him. He will snatch them back, the wall will snap back into place, and he will leave her behind, ready to torture himself until the sun rises. Alone.
She can’t stomach the thought of him being alone. She doesn’t want to be alone either. Waiting for the sun. Waiting for the news that Batman - that Bruce - succeeded.
Stephanie presses her hands to her stomach, as if that will stop the churning.
“I can’t stop seeing her,” she whispers.
Tim, cowl down, hair wild and static, turns and watches Stephanie. His eyes are round and wide and sad.
“It’s not your fault,” he says, voice breaking from disuse.
“Or yours.”
He does not believe her, and turns back to looking at the sky.
She very much wants him to hold her, but she does not know how to ask. She continues to watch him. The sharp straight line of his nose, the freckles on the edge of his jaw and neck, the hair that she very much wants to pet back into place. The hands that are trembling.
He clasps them together, and then squeezes them in between his knees, fighting the affliction.
Sniffing, she shuffles very slightly closer. “Distract me,” she outright begs.
His eyes, impossibly, widen. “How?”
She looked around her, desperate for inspiration. It does not come, so she settles for the most banal of topics. Tedious is rhythmic. Boring is safe.
“How is work?”
He actually scoffs, caught off guard. He humors her, because that’s what he has always done. For as long as he has known her, he has humored her. Sometimes it works out for the best. Most of the time, it has not.
Logically, she knows why he indulges her. Emotionally, sometimes, it feels belittling. Not now. Now she needs indulging. She needs spoiling.
He somewhat understands what she wants.
“Dull,” he says.
It’s not enough.
The lump in her throat returns, threatening to make breathing harder. She tries again.
“I saw you in the news. Vicki was kind. For once.”
“I asked Bruce to take down those posters of me across the cities. Hellish things.”
She smiles, but it feels stiff and skeletal, and it falls as soon as it comes. “People just want to see the new top king. Handsome thing that he is.”
He squirms and shuffles on his butt. Compliments never come easy to Tim. Stephanie keeps talking. She is too frightened, and it is all she knows to do when scared.
“I think it’s good, the projects. And you. Bruce is so proud, I can tell. I’ll make him tell you, when he… when he…”
The tightness in her throat cuts off her breath, and her vision blurs. She looks down at her own hands, and is shocked when splats of water crash down.
Crap. Pull it together.
“Steph…” Tim breathes.
“I’m frightened,” she admits. Whines. It’s easy for her to say. She’s not ashamed of it, not like Tim is. She needs help.
She hears him move, then one of his shaking hands is in her eye line, palm up and open.
He does not speak loudly, as if he is ashamed to speak at all.
“I’m not scared, but if you are, you can hold my hand.”
The tightness in his voice would have given away the lie if the trembling hand hadn’t already. Stiffly, she places her left hand in his waiting right. He takes it so steadily once she does, left hand coming in and cradling her. Stephanie watches as he pulls up their clasped hands, and presses a very firm kiss to her knuckles, before letting them rest on his lap.
Moving closer, breathing weak and wet, she places her right hand into the pile, and the two hold on very tight.
Her cheeks warm. It is not any easier to breathe, and yet somehow the fear subsides enough to allow her to finally act on her wants. Taking a chance, she rests her cheek on his shoulder. He holds steady. If he no longer has the strength to be strong for himself, he finds the will somewhere for her.
He’s always indulged her.
Bruce will come, Stephanie knows it. And with him, the sun.