Work Text:
It took months for Alice to properly boot up her broadcast again, after that fateful night.
Too many memories intertwined with the scars on her body clung to the practice. The words just didn’t flow together anymore, and they wouldn’t stick to the paper. There was too much to explain about that night, far more than she cared to.
And Robin made sure Alice kept her line firm in the sand.
Birdie watched over the whole process, for that first following broadcast. Reading the script, helping her girlfriend rehearse, ensuring that the information never got too personal, or reached a point of excess. No matter how honest the Reporter might be, she had to keep some things to herself.
The countless nights of tears, the confessions side by side in hospital beds, the sight of death, those things were between the partners. Not Witherburn nor the media nor the world would ever need to know.
So, when the Friday came, and Alice’s microphone clicked on, Birdie stayed leaning against the doorframe, listening.
“Hello, Witherburn. Lord, it’s been a while. There’s a lot about my last broadcast that I’m sure you’re all curious to know…”
The Reporter paused for a moment, hesitating, her tone wobbling on the knife’s edge of tears. Robin’s muscles tensed, and she began to move forward, ready to click off the mic if it became too much.
“...but that’s just old news. And this broadcast has never been about me, has it? So why don’t we start on today’s stories? The church’s annual summer bakesale is in full swing, and I hear that Mrs. Newberry has-”
Birdie relaxed, returning to her original position, a small smile taking over her features.
Nothing was quite as it had been the last time Witherburn After School News aired; and Alice still had it.
Robin would just be keeping an eye.