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Stephanie rolled her chair back and forth slightly,purposely hitting the squeaky part of the axel repeatedly. She kept her eyes nonchalantly on the ceiling of the cave, though made sure the younger Wayne was in her periphery at all times.
“If you have something to say, Brown…” Damian breathed, sounding both annoyed and distracted in the same tone, as he flipped through the papers before him. “Then just say it.”
“What, I can’t want to just hang out with you?” Stephanie hummed. “Like…like old times.”
She saw Damian pause in his analysis. Gaze go far away for a fraction of a second. The look almost instantly dropped, and the moment passed as Damian shuffled the pages. “No.”
“Spoilsport.” Stephanie snorted, spinning her chair in a circle.
Damian sighed. “What do you want?”
Stephanie finally stopped. Stopped fiddling with her chair, stopped beating around the bush. She slumped back, folded her hands into her lap, and whispered, “…Is he the same?”
And it was that, that finally broke the former assassin’s resolve. For a pause, Damian didn’t move, but he finally put the papers down, spun the large chair around. He matched Stephanie’s posture, flopping against his own seat’s back, dropping his arms like dead weight and stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Please, kid.” Stephanie could only loll her head to the side, give a weak smile. “Give it to me straight.”
Damian pursed his lips in thought. He always hated that nickname.
She gave a light snort. “Remember, I am older than you.” She chided. “I don’t need your protection.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t give it.” Damian responded, almost on automatic. Probably was, given the amount of times they’d had this type of conversation, especially since…well, that incident was a long time ago. Stephanie didn’t want to think about it. Not right now.
“Give it to me straight, Dames.” She pleaded. “Is he the same? Is he still our little Timbo?”
Damian leaned his head back, staring anywhere but Stephanie. “…No.”
Stephanie let out a small gasp. Resignation. Disappointment.
“I knew it.” She murmured, mostly to herself. “But…I still hoped-”
“And that’s where you went wrong.” Damian suddenly jumped up, went stomping past Stephanie’s wheelchair. He hopped down the stairs, going over to the training area. Stephanie watched as he picked up his favorite weapon – the most deadly, of course – heading straight for the practice dummy. “I’ve told you, Brown.” Hit. Another. Harder. Harder. Another. Another. Another “There’s no room for hope in our line of work.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” A new voice purred from the stairs.
Damian spun around mid-swing. Stephanie just jerked, holding up her balled fists. But they immediately broke as recognition filtered through her mind.
He looked older. Taller. Still scrawny, still thin as a stick, still terrible haircut. He looked ragged. Tired. Haunted.
It was Tim Drake. But it wasn’t Tim Drake.
Damian scowled, but turned away. He didn’t hit the dummy again, though. Just stared at the ground. Like he always did.
Tim was a touchy subject for him. Always has been. Stephanie was pretty sure it always would be.
His replacement. His brother. His to protect. His to lose.
Tim didn’t seem offended by Damian’s actions, and instead turned his attention to Stephanie. He smiled at her. It was wide and bright. But borderline manic and hostile.
“T…Tim?” she whispered. He seemed to float down the rest of the stairs, across the expanse of the Cave. He moved gracefully, and Stephanie knew him well enough to know he was trying to hide something from her. He didn’t have to, though. Damian had already told her about the guns, that they were holstered underneath that leather jacket.
But with every step he took towards her, she found she didn’t care. Didn’t care about the guns. Didn’t care about his haircut. Didn’t care that he was so obviously different, so obviously changed.
She just cared that he was alive.
He was barely in front of her when she raised herself from the chair. And it was almost like Tim never left, because he didn’t miss a beat. He caught her by her armpits, wrapped his arms tight around her back, and lifted her into the air. She clung to his neck, taking in his scent – grass and cheeseburgers, and that would never change, even if he tried.
“Hey, nerd.” She realized after the fact that she was sobbing. She heard Damian scoff at her in the background.
“Long time no see.” Tim grinned against her hair, rocking her slowly back and forth.
“Too long.” Stephanie found herself grinning back, shifting her hand to hold the back of Tim’s head. She glanced across to see Damian, despite everything, smiling just a little. Her boys. She had all of her boys back, for however brief a moment. She dug her nails into Tim’s jacket, practically willing this second to last forever. “Far too long.”