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Stephanie could feel Gotham crumbling around her. It'd been like that for as long as she could remember. Before her father, before the Bats, before all of it. When she was a little girl and it was just her mother and her, her father never home, her mother refusing to answer questions about him, till she just learned to stop asking. Sometimes, she’d make up stories as to where he was, in the army and deployed, a businessman traveling abroad, always “he’ll be back soon”. She was pretty sure that’s where she got the endless optimism from. At least it appeared endless. Everyone has a breaking point. She hadn’t hit hers. Yet.
Endless gone, what she learned to expect from men. Tim fit the bill, back when they were dating. It got even worse after they stopped. Freud wasn’t good for nothing, right?
Gotham was crumbling and she wasn't sure if it the bats, or the birds, or even the thing movie go-ers hate the most could prop it up much longer. She stared at the chipped gargoyle, perched on an old brick factory building, now used for god knows what. Buildings were always being repurposed in Gotham. Things shifted and changed all the time, a rather fickle city.
It was drizzling, par for the course during April in Gotham, near constant showers with little respite. And the flowers in May weren’t nearly as rewarding as the old expression made them seem.
There were four other people at the bus-stop, a young girl, presenting a moderate threat, but not to Steph. She was on her phone with big over-the-ear headphones. She was usually at this stop on Steph's way to work, she seemed nice enough.
An older man, who was reading something, she didn't consider him a threat either.
Also a couple, by their accents and the way they spoke to each other, she thought it was safe to assume they were from Metropolis. They were rather close and sweet and their status as tourists let her assume that they weren't a threat either.
That helped loosen the tight line of her shoulders just a little bit, but not by much. The bus came and they all clambered aboard, there weren't too many people on the bus, it was late.
She just stared down out the window that was covered in rain. Gotham could be so pretty. It wasn't, not really anymore, but it could be. Maybe she could encourage Bruce to put a little more money in infrastructure- or something akin to that. She wanted this city to be as beautiful as she knew it was, under all the grime and dirt.
The bus didn't quite make it to her apartment, a few blocks off, nothing she couldn't handle. The girl with the big headphones and she usually walked home together, maybe not intentionally on her part, but they usually walked side-by-side, Stephanie didn't even know her name. She didn't know Stephanie's name, but it was a strange arrangement.
One time, some guy was following them, and Stephanie pulled out her switchblade and showed it to the girl, who looked up at her, slightly in awe, smiled, and pulled out her own butterfly knife. Steph smiled right back and they kept walking, till they reached the girl's apartment. She gave her a hug and ran inside. Stephanie continued watching her back, but she wasn't too concerned.
She kind of reminded her of Cass, quite, although the girl was a lot more tan and was a lot smaller. She wore bright colored clothes, inspired by harajuku fashion maybe, which Steph was intimately aware of after her scene phase when she was fourteen and rebelling against her dad in different ways. Maybe it was the absolute silence too, although Cass gave her little words and phrases occasionally nowadays.
Tonight was no different, walking side by side alone. This time there was someone following. Maybe two people, she wasn't concerned about it, they weren't after the girl. That she was sure of.
She walked her to her building, she turned heel and waved a little bit at the top of her stairs before heading in. Steph waved back and waited just a moment for her to get all the way in. Then she continued to walk. She didn't expect the people on the rooftops to come out while she was on the street, and she definitely wasn't concerned about them, but she grabbed her knife, she'd rather be safe than sorry.
The rest of her walk home went off without a hitch, as she had predicted. The chances of anything going wrong with her eyes up in the sky at the moment weren't high.
She liked to walk up the stairs usually, unless she'd had a particularly stressful day, in which case she'd take the elevator. Today was one of those days. She thumbed the up button and didn't have to wait long before it opened with a bright ding. She then pressed the ninth floor, leaned into the corner. Fuck, she was tired. Thank god there was no patrol for her today.
She enjoyed being on the sixth floor, she enjoyed the idea that if someone were coming in and mowing down each floor, if they started on the bottom or the top, she'd be roughly in the middle either way, seeing as there were ten floors. It was a little thought that didn't make very much sense, and it more or less stemmed from overt paranoia, but the little seven year old girl within her appreciated it nonetheless.
She rummaged the keys out of her backpack as she approached her door, and clicked open the lock. She didn't turn any lights on, the bus had already been filled with fluorescent lighting that was threatening to set off a headache.
She made her way to her couch, to finally get a little rest. She tossed her bag down and flopped down next to it, taking a second to dig through it to find the vape she usually kept in her bag. She didn't usually use it, but today was a special exception. She sunk into the couch and brought the pen to her lips and breathed in, hoping to be given a moment of respect.
That was not awarded to her. Instead she was gifted Nightwing, Red Robin, and little sword-wielding Robin, crawling through her window. Some crummy gift that was. It’s not that she didn’t like them, but seeing anyone right now, ugh, it sounded like a chore.
"Gentlemen," she hummed from the couch. Damian immediately went sniffing around her apartment, she wasn’t quite sure if he was trying to find something or if he was just interested in the setup, seeing as he’d never been to this apartment before. Knowing him it could be both. Tim walked across the apartment to flick the lights on. Dick stood silently, scanning the room.
He turned to take a look at her, "Steph-" he glared once he saw the purple vape curled up in her hands. Of course he had an issue with it, she couldn’t do anything these days without judgment from him. He was so up his own ass sometimes. It’s what she loved about him, and what she absolutely despised about him.
"Don't start it. Not all of us can be health-nuts like you."
“I’m not a health-nut,” he put derogatory air quotation marks around the word, “everyone knows they’re terrible for you, Nightwing?” Tim looked over to the eldest brother, who’s expression morphed into shock. He raised his hands defensively.
“Hold on, don’t drag me into this, I don’t care! It’s been explained to me it’s an every once in a while thing,” to which Steph affirmed by nodding her head. “Now let me clarify, I do not, let me repeat, do not, support it, but! Stephanie is her own woman. On the other hand,” he let out a loud cough that caught the attention of Damian, who’s head jerked to Dicks direction, “if I ever catch one,” he emphasized, glaring in Damian’s direction, “of you doing it, I’ll tell Brrrrr-B, who will handle it accordingly.” He made no effort to elaborate on what accordingly meant, but Tim shuttered in, disgust? Fear? Something of the sort.
Damian frowned, “your thinly veiled attempt at threatening me does nothing to discourage this behavior.”
“Yeah, telling kids not to do it just makes them wanna do it more,” Steph concurred. Dick shrugged halfheartedly, clearly over his own anti drug campaign. “So why are you guys here?”
“Can we not just visit to visit?”
“Pity.”
“Wellness check.”
Came a chorus of answers. “I see,” she nodded.
“You had dinner?” Dick asked, moving into the kitchen and looking around.
“Not yet.” Stephanie moved from her crack in the couch to kneel while resting her head on the back of the couch, staring at Damian rustling through her drawers and Dick peeking around her pantry.
“Don’t you guys have shifts tonight?” Stephanie asked, as if the suits and domino masks didn’t answer that question.
“Yeah, we’ve gotta be going soon,” Tim said, leaning on the wall next to her door, on the phone Bruce gave them for fantastical crime fighting. She took a lot of selfies and pictures with that phone.
“Well go then,” she was partially joking, but it didn’t really matter either way, her apartment wasn’t in much condition to be seen by other people right now.
“Awesome, bye Stephanie,” he said as he made his way back across the room and out the window. Dick sighed and walked out of the kitchen.
“Do you want me to make you something Steph?” Dick asked. He was trying to be nice and he was a perfectly wonderful cook, and she’d usually be more than delighted to take a meal from him, but he was busy, obviously. She didn’t want to bother him too much.
“Eh, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, okay? If you’ve gotta go, go. I’ll make myself something later.” That didn’t feel true even as it came out of her mouth, and he didn’t seem to believe it, but it was fine.
“Alright Steph, see you soon, right?” He looked so apologetic even under the mask. It was surprising how expressive Grayson could be, although maybe he was just expressive compared to his much more emotionally constipated… coworkers? Siblings? Friends?
“Right.” She nodded. She was a little disappointed he was leaving but duty calls, right? That sense of moral obligation had guided her pretty strongly through her vigilante career, and she couldn’t assume anything too different for anyone else's. People don’t tend to put their lives on the line every night without a pretty strong sense of justice.
“Damian?” Dick prompted, his head cocked, he was positioned about halfway out the window, one leg in, one leg out.
“No, I’ll stay for a moment, thanks.” Damian said dismissively, still digging through her kitchen, now having moved onto her cabinet. If he was looking for something, he was looking hard.
“Oh-kay? Don’t bother her too much, okay?” He gave a little salute before slipping out the window and into the night.
“Yeah yeah,” he waved his hand at the already gone figure.
“So why’d you stay gremlin?” she asked, a little suspicious of him, but otherwise unworried. He may have been trained by the League of Assassins but by all accounts, he’s seemingly… mostly house trained.
“Hungry. Can I make something?” He inquired, already digging through her pantry.
“What are you trying to make?” She wasn’t opposed to the idea, as long as he made two servings. She was sort of hungry now that she thought about it.
“Do you like buttered noodles?” he said, already pulling out the pots and the noodles. It seemed like a particularly bland meal for the son of an Arab-Chinese woman and a billionaire that travelled all over the world and had his own butler, but that was whatever. She didn’t have particularly refined taste buds.
“Sure.”
They didn’t communicate much while he was cooking. She sat on her phone and occasionally while he wasn’t standing over the oven, he sat on his phone too. She offered him the vape at one point, which he accepted wordlessly, and he didn’t keep it for more than a minute. Once he gave it back to her, seemingly he was finished. One of the few questions he asked was “Which bowl?” to which she shrugged and he grunted. They ended up eating from paper bowls.
“Thanks for making dinner.” She said halfheartedly when she finished her bowl, which she seasoned with red pepper flakes. He finished much before her and even washed the pot for her, which she appreciated dearly.
“Of course, I’ve gotta go, nice seeing you, maybe I’ll make something another time,” he said as he threw his bowl in the trash, and jumped through the window back into the Gotham night.
He wasn’t half bad when he wasn’t trying to kill or pick a fight with you. The nicotine may have helped a bit too.
God she felt disgusting now. Everything felt heavy on her. A shower was a must at this point.
She found her way to the bathroom and started to strip before she realized she couldn’t bear to see her body today. It was just too much. She flicked off the light and shed the rest of her clothing before walking over to the shower bath combo. Muscle memory helped inform how far to turn the handle for optimal temperature.
It didn’t take long for her to step in and let the water weigh her down. The water was heavy in her hair, it was almost grounding. Her soap was always in order for nights like these, shampoo, conditioner, body wash and face wash. She felt around for the shampoo first, squeezing it into her hand and lathering it up, the coconut smell familiar, the same she’d used for years. She rubbed it into her scalp and wondered just for a moment, what’d it’d be like if Tim were still the one doing it, his expert hands, long and nimble, nails always a bit long for a guy, but Stephanie loved them. She didn’t try to indulge in the thought but trying to force it away would only make it worse.
He never enjoyed doing the conditioner part of it, something about the texture, so she the thought faded away as she washed the shampoo out and moved on. She wrung out her hair before putting conditioner in her hand, only working through the ends. Her mother showed her how to was her hair when she was young. It was a routine now, maybe she wasn’t perfect. Ok… she definitely wasn’t perfect, but she was foundational. Every little thing Stephanie did had a piece of her in it. She dreaded moving to body wash, the smell was one of her favorites, Bruce used to poke fun at her when she asked him to buy it, the pumpkin spice one, but she always used to argue, it smelled divine, no matter how “basic” is seemed.
It brought up worse thoughts though, as she poured it onto her purple loofah, she ran down her arms first, her left covered in the faintest cigarette burns these days, from when her mom’d lose her cool and put it out on Stephanie to get her to stop talking. The other arm was scattered with marks where’d she’d scratched into the skin, usually out of anger, she’d learned the hard way that those don’t fade very nicely. Moving to her chest, the stretch marks on her tits were just another sore reminder that she grew up too fast, and going lower the scar that rested on her stomach and the stretch marks there were even worse reminders of that fact. She could never undo that. And going to her legs, the lines that filled her upper thighs from the days where she thought taking a blade to them would solve all her problems (it didn’t), and the memory of busted kneecaps from when she was a silly little girl who thought she was infallible. That illusion shattered the moment she’d ripped open her knees after falling off a skateboard, with no safety gear on.
God if she could go back and redo everything, she’d make sure her body was a clean slate, no scars, self inflicted or otherwise, she’d wear protection, both on skateboards and with boyfriends, she’d never pop the blade out of a stupid shaving razor, she’d talk less and wouldn’t annoy her mom, she’d control her temper, god she’d even put on sunscreen to keep those stupid freckles away and she’d never pick at her face if it meant she would have any of the acne scars.
She wanted to be clean.
She didn’t know when she’d started crying.
She let the soap run off her body. She didn’t try to wipe her tears, they’d all be washed away too. She wanted them to be washed away. Just for consistencies sake, she washed her face, scrubbing hard and not bothering to change the temperature to something cooler like she usually did. She wanted to get out.
As soon as the soap was washed off her face she turned the water off and got out of the shower. She groped around for the towel on the rack, making a quick effort to dry herself. She bent over and wrapped her hair up in a twist for a moment, just to keep it from dripping. She patted for just a moment in an effort to find her phone before she grabbed it and unwrapped her hair. She didn’t bother to hang the towel back up, she just let it drop to the floor.
She made her way across the hall and into her bedroom, avoiding the clothes on the floor before flopping into bed and putting her phone on the charger, lying down to check it. She has a few text messages.
Boss
Sorry if the birds bother you when they came over.
To which she responded,
they were no problem lol
did u send them?
also gremlin made me dinner
Bruce thumbs upped the first message, put a heart on the third and didn’t respond to the second. That’s alright, she didn’t expect him to, but it didn’t quell her suspicions.
The next one was
bird boy
hey, we should get breakfast at some point.
She put a thumbs up on it and said
you’re paying
She didn’t expect it to been seen till much later, tim was chronically bad at texting back.
babs <3
Night Steph, hope you had a good day.
It was less that Barbara had gone to sleep and more that Barbara was no longer responding to texts for the night, but Stephanie always appreciated the text.
night hun, hope you did too
It was unusual for Damian to text her
gremlin
i’m being told to apologize for “overstaying my welcome” (¬_¬)
ur fine lmao, it was nice to have you over
ur noodles were good too
cool ^^
It’s likely that was the most she was gonna get out of him. She’d try again a bit later.
She saved her favorite for last.
cassgdhsgdhshd
Hope you had okay day ^^
eh
Oh no :(
is okie
Want to hang out tomorrow <3 ?
ofc
i’m gonna go to bed soon
ly
gn
ILYT :)
GN
That made her feel a helluva lot better, maybe tomorrow could be better. She closed her eyes with a flushing face and her phone pulled close to her chest.