Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning after the end of the world begins with a kiss. Steph finally crawls in from the balcony after sunrise, barely present and supported by a watchful Cass. Cass presses her lips to Steph's as they enter and everything snaps back into focus. She'll never get tired of kissing Cass, of the way their lips move together like they've been waiting for this all their lives.

“You okay?” Cass asks softly. 

Steph takes a deep breath. She thinks about Harper, sleeping off their surgery in a lonely hospital bed. She thinks about the protest camp, now nothing but ashes and arrests. She thinks about her mom again. She shakes her head, and leans in for another kiss to chase the thoughts away. 

Cass kisses her back like she's trying to infuse Steph with all the love and hope in her body. When they pull apart, Cass asks again. “You okay?”

Steph doesn't know the answer to that yet, so she kisses Cass again. This time, as Cass’s tongue dances across the roof of her mouth, she tries to think okay thoughts. She thinks about Harper's survival and the protest leaders' hope and Rose and Nia and Cass, Cass, Cass.

“You okay?” Cass asks a third time, studying Steph's body like she already knows the answer but wants to hear it anyway.

“I will be,” Steph says firmly, and realizes it's true. The movement survives because they survived. She won't let them - won't let Harper - down by giving up. She won't let the Owls win.

Cass pats her cheek. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Steph says. She leans her head against Cass’s shoulder and breathes in the scent of her jasmine body wash. It tethers her here, in this moment, this soft hope.

Across the room, Rose looks up from the unlit joint she's turning over between her fingers. She meets their eyes and smiles dangerously. 

“Come,” Cass mouths. “Join.”

Rose pockets the joint. She moves across the Tower with lethal, fluid grace. When she reaches them, she presses a sharp kiss to Cass’s lips. Cass bites Rose's lower lip. Rose breathes a sigh into her mouth. Then she turns to Steph, who catches the kiss on her tongue and twists it between her teeth. Rose sighs again, longer and louder this time. 

“Good morning to all of you,” says Dinah wearily, looking up from her post at the computers. Next to her, Barbara is asleep in her chair, her arms and head pillowed on the desktop. Dinah must've taken over after she fell asleep at the comms again. It's a routine of theirs. 

The three Bad Girls pull apart, blushing. Well, Steph is blushing. Cass seems unbothered and Rose just laughs.

***

Steph glances around the Clocktower. It's crowded today, various League heroes having come back here after the camp burned, sharing space awkwardly with the usual Birds

In one corner, Zinda is cleaning her guns and humming an old drinking song as Green Lantern Jessica Cruz shows her pictures of her cat. In another, Renee Montoya is arguing with what sounds like her girlfriend over the phone. Steph catches ‘come on, Kate' and ‘please,’ before Renee snaps the flip phone shut and mutters ‘fuck’s sake.’ 

The guest room door is open, and if Steph squints she can make out what looks like one of Frankie's arm crutches leaning against the bed. The Operator must've decided it was safer to stay the rest of the night than to try to get back to her own place in the middle of the chaos. 

Steph looks up and away to find Nightwing passed out in the rafters, Wonder Girl Donna Troy leaned against them comfortably as if there's no place she'd rather be than here.

Diana and her sister Nubia are sparring on one set of training mats as Cassie watches, her Arrowette at her side. Steph's gaze lingers on them for a moment, staring at the way they move, their fighter’s grace as their swords dance together. There's nothing like watching the way the Amazons fight. 

Helena Bertinelli is grading homework on one of the other training mats, oblivious to the nearby commotion, her papers spread out around her. She has headphones on, which makes sense. Helena always listens to Italian punk bands when she grades. She tried to get Steph into them during No Man's Land when she was staying with Helena after - after the last apocalypse. Steph is glad she's around for this one too.

She spots Nia next, huddled in a blanket staring at the news screen like it's the only thing that matters. She nudges the other Bad Girls, and they drift over to their girlfriend as one. “Hey babes,” Rose caresses Nia's left shoulder. “Have you been here all night?”

Nia nods. “They're about to announce the verdict and I know Barbara said not to, but I just keep hoping they'll do the right thing and stop him.”

Rose sighs. Her face takes on the expression Steph associates with her visions and she shakes her head slightly. 

“We stop him,” Cass reassures Nia. “Bad Girls. Birds. League. He will not win.”

Nia tilts her head up. She looks oddly fragile. “I don't know if I can believe that after this week. After…”

She trails off, but Steph knows they're all filling in the rest of that sentence: After Harper. 

Harper would know what to say. All Steph knows how to do is lean down and brush her lips against Nia's. Nia melts into the kiss, clutching tenderly at the back of Steph's head and neck.

“I love you,” she breathes. It's the first time Nia's said it to any of them, and she takes a second to let the words sink in before looking between the three of them and saying it again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steph says, and bends to kiss Nia again. Cass flashes the ‘I love you’ sign, and Rose kisses Nia's cheek. 

The news flashes a ‘BREAKING STORY’ alert and the Bad Girls sit down together to see what else the world is going to throw at them today.

***

Luthor is found guilty on all charges but the judge says he's ‘refraining from penalizing him at this time, given Mr. Luthor's standing and position in the community, the extenuating circumstances that led to his crimes, and his evident commitment to genuine restitution. It is the opinion of this court that Mr. Luthor will be better served by a fresh start than any punishment we could mete out.’

Nia starts crying softly under her breath. Rose pulls her into her lap and presses a kiss to her hairline.

Nia’s eyes water and run over. Rose kisses her right below her eyelids. “Saw it coming, didn't you babes?”

Nia nods wordlessly. Steph is glad Rose, at least, is doing something to help her because all she and Cass can do is stare in shock and clutch each other.

Now what? Steph thinks. 

Then the camera pans around the outside of the building as the verdict is read, where a crowd of protestors and counter-protestors are gathered. Signs read ‘Lex was Right’ ‘Lex Rex' and ‘Lex for Prez,’ as well as ‘Lex = Guilty,’ ‘He Did It, You Know It, Now Show It,’ and simply ‘Lex.’ Steph spots more than a few signs that shout out the Narrows protests, most reading ‘Narrows Strong.’ She feels tears well up. It's the tiniest bit of proof that their movement lives on - that what they built matters and will keep on mattering even after last night. 

Cass makes a soft, relieved noise. Steph kisses her cheek.

On screen, the protestors are being pushed back by police as fights break out between the factions. Someone starts up one of the Canary's chants and other familiar chants follow, interspersed together in a cacophony of rage. 

‘ESCALATE, INSTIGATE, IGNORE’

‘WE’RE NOT GOING (ANYWHERE)’

‘NO MORE KINGS (END OF THE LINE)’

This last one is a direct response to the counter-protestors, who are shouting ‘LEX REX’ and smiling for the cameras.

Luthor emerges from the courthouse looking shaken but victorious, flashing a smile for the cameras and refusing to answer any questions. Someone throws a brick and it collides with the wall a few feet from his head. A woman the commentator identifies as Luthor's long-term bodyguard Mercy Graves hustles him back inside quickly, but not before he flashes a ‘v for victory' with one hand and a peace sign with the other. He's smiling even wider as the door closes behind him. By tomorrow that picture will be on the front of every newspaper, assuming nothing bigger happens today. Steph doubts that somehow.

***

The news cuts between Daily Planet reporters in Metropolis. A reporter identified as Steve Lombard is at Shuster Sports Arena, which is one of several stadiums holding watch parties for the verdict. 

“Shock has descended on the Shuster Arena, normally home to our Metropolis Generals and Meteorites during basketball season, and Mammoths and Mammoth Misses during hockey season.”

The camera pans around the duly shocked faces, landing temporarily on a woman Steph recognizes as Karen. It makes sense that the Metropolis heroes would've flown back overnight, but they'll be greatly missed in Gotham.

“Pro Luthor members celebrate vocally, clothed in their viral ‘LEX REX' merchandise and holding up ‘Lex 4 Prez’ signs. People are beginning to quietly trickle out, as security breaks up fights between the pro and anti Luthor factions. Luthor remains a controversial figure here in Metropolis, where Lexcorp out-employs most other industries even post-arrest. Many in the audience wear orange shirts representing TULE, or ‘The Union of Lexcorp Employees’, which has grown in number and influence since Luthor's arrest. TULE is expected to issue a statement later today. Lexcorp does not recognize TULE as a governing body.”

The screen goes to Cat Grant in the lounge where she films her morning show for the Daily Planet. Steph feels a now-familiar ache - Cat Grant's morning talk show was a normal part of Crystal Brown's daily routine.  Watching it now makes her feel like her mom is with her at the world's end.

“Thank you, Steve. As a reminder, we had former Lexcorp engineer and current full-time TULE organizer Lana Lang on the show just yesterday morning-”

The screen plays a clip from the interview.

“People keep asking ‘what’s your plan for the verdict, what's your plan for the verdict,’ but what they don't realize is that our fight is over something much bigger than this one man's crimes. We're fighting an empire that's going to keep on existing whether he wins his case or not. We have to make sure TULE keeps existing, we have to keep growing and building and making sure people get their rights either way. What's your plan for after the verdict? Wake up, make a cup of coffee, and keep up the good fight.”

“She's good,” Cass comments. Steph pulls up the rest of the interview on her phone and almost starts crying at the thumbnail of Lana Lang holding up the Cat's Shadow.

“She shouted us out,” Steph breathes as she scrolls through the transcript. “She called us an inspiration and said she hopes we-”

Her voice breaks on the words. She holds out the phone to Rose, not trusting herself to finish the quote.

“TULE stands with the Narrows, with Gotham, and with the liberation movement we're getting to watch play out in real time there. It's an inspiration to the world and I bet I'll keep hearing ‘Narrows Strong’ chants at marches and meetings going forward. I hope they stick around for a long time. I hope they stay in the fight. I know we will. As long as it takes,” Rose reads aloud. 

“Love it when you read,” Cass murmurs. “It's nice.”

“Anytime, babes,” Rose blows her a kiss. Cass catches it between her fingers and presses them to her lips. Rose goes bright red. Steph leans across to kiss Rose’s still-outstretched hand. Rose moans.

Nia smiles for the first time all day as her cheeks go pink.

“People believe us,” Cass grins over at the phone. “We survive.”

Steph hopes she's right.

***

“We now go to an unconventional watch party held at Bibbo Bibbowski’s Ace o’Clubs bar, presided over by our own Clark Kent.” The name pulls them back to the screen.

“Thank you, Cat,” Clark takes it away. He's got a microphone in one hand and a Superman logoed waterbottle in the other. He's surrounded by crying people in Superman memorabilia, the walls of the bar lined with Superman headlines and pictures. “The air here is thick with hurt. Metropolis's Suicide Slum has considered Superman theirs ever since the first time he showed up ‘after hours’ to help out at a community center and turn away ICE. Bar Owner Bibbo Bibbowski, who credits the hero with helping him turn his life around, runs what he calls ‘the Sooperman museum' alongside his landmark bar, which claims to host the best music, pinball, and beer in town. Today, Bibbowski offered free drinks to anyone who showed up in support of Superman, and he's kept the drinks coming as the verdict hits the community. Lexcorp has petitioned the Metropolis city government to allow it to rezone and repurpose much of the land in the slum. That project was put on hold by Luthor's arrest and now, many are wondering what his release means for their community.”

Different city, same shit, Steph thinks offhandedly. Clark interviews a few furious people, among them a girl who gives her name as Traci and her muscled girlfriend Natasha, who has familiar features, lesbian flag patterned dreads, and a fighter's stance.

“Whatever happens,” Traci says, Natasha’s hand on the small of her back, “we're not going to let Luthor take this from us. This city is ours - the slum is ours. He doesn't get to change that.”

She and her partner both raise their hands in - in the Cat's Shadow. Steph stares, transfixed. 

We built something, she thinks again. We really built something.

***

She tries to carry the faith with her into the next news segment, as the Daily Planet’s political analyst discusses Luthor’s approval rating and presidential prospects.

“While there's been no statement either way from the Luthor camp, he's emerging as the clear frontrunner in a sea of similarly-undeclared speculative candidates,” reporter Ron Troupe has the graphs to back him up. It's concerning. Steph clings to the last bit of faith TULE and that Cat's Shadow reignited and doesn't let go. 

“He hasn't announced yet,” she tries to reassure Nia, who's starting to shake again.

“Will survive this,” Cass promises. “Strong.”

Rose and Nia exchange a long, vision-haunted look that makes Steph worry about their ability to keep that promise, but she's not about to argue with Cass. She channels Harper instead. “Of course we'll survive it. We're the Bad Girls. It's what we do.”

***

Barbara wheels over when there's a break in the news stories to check on them - especially Nia - and to remind Steph to change her bandages.

“Any update?” Cass asks softly. There's only one update she could be asking for.

Barbara shakes her head. “They're still asleep and stable, that's still all I know, they're-”

“Still not here,” Cass finishes. Her voice is small. Her grief isn't.

Harper is still gone, and the Bad Girls are still undone without them. Steph tells herself their movement is still here, and that counts for something, but with Harper gone she just doesn't know.

Ron Troupe is talking again, something about the surprising veracity of the ‘Lex Rex' movement and Nia…Nia is hyperventilating. Oh shit.

Rose intervenes. “Come smoke with me on the balcony, babes, the news will be here when you get back.”

Nia shakes her head. “I have to know. It's who I am.”

Cass leans up to kiss Rose. “You go. Take Steph. Will stay with her.”

“Me?” Steph frowns. “But-”

“Come on, babes,” Rose pulls Steph to her feet and drapes her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Keep me company? I don't want to be alone with the future right now. It’s an itch I can't stab away.”

“When you put it that way…” Steph presses a kiss to Rose's lips, and one to Nia’s hair for good measure, then lets her girlfriend lead her back out into the drizzling Gotham morning. “It's raining out here.”

Rose shrugs. “It's raining in there too, just a different kind.”

Steph can't argue with that. There's a storm coming, and it's going to get worse before they can figure out how to fix it, if they even can.

Somehow it's still only eleven a.m. It's been less than twelve hours since the attack on the camp left them reeling. It feels longer, like it's been forever since Steph got to hold Harper, like it's been infinity since she felt anything other than nebulous dread against her faintly sparking hope.

Rose kisses her, long and desperate and clinging, and Steph amends that: whatever else happens, she still feels the love. They both do, no matter how tightly the visions press in on Rose’s mind and how heavy Steph's grief weighs against her aching body. 

They have each other. They have Nia and Cass. They have the Birds and the League and what's left of the still-fighting protest movement.

Maybe one day they'll be okay. Today, they'll simply hold each other close and watch the storm blow in.

Chapter Text

There's no real break in the unrelenting news coverage. Steph wants to turn off the screens and give herself and her partners time to adjust, but it just keeps coming.

The news ticker goes live to one of Special Assistant Cressida Clarke's incessant press conferences. Her owl feather brooch and too-brassy bleached hair glint in the interior lighting. She's neatly framed between two feathered columns. Triumph radiates off of her, Steph thinks about Harper's blood on her shirt and the noise they made when their body hit the cold ground. She wants to start screaming and never stop; she wants to run to City Hall and fling herself at this Owl, broken wrist be damned; she wants Harper here with her.

“Yesterday, we watched in collective disbelief as our one time heroes, the so-called Justice League, threw away the values they'd sworn to protect and took up arms against our brave first responders.”

Steph realizes abruptly that she's waiting to hear the interrupting noise of chants between Cressida's statements, but nothing comes. She wraps her arms around herself and reminds herself of the signs, the chants, the Shadows. Just because she's blocking us out doesn't mean it's not there.

“Shut the fuck up,” she mutters under her breath.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rose agrees. Cass nods. Nia keeps watching, unmoving. Steph leans over to kiss Rose quickly before the speech continues. Rose smiles into her lips. Then, Cressida starts again, and the Bad Girls pull apart.

“They sought to overrun the gates of City Hall and tear down this duly elected government, but we are proud to announce that this Hall is still standing, this Council is still standing, Gotham is still standing, and we will not be intimidated.”

“Bold words from a woman who moved her press conference indoors,” Dinah mutters, leaning over Barbara's shoulder to refill her coffee cup. Barbara snorts, and takes the fresh coffee gratefully.

“Thanks to the valiant efforts of GCPD Sergeant William Pettit, there were no fatalities and injuries were kept to a minimum.”

Whose injuries? Steph wonders, looking down at her bandaged wrist. The line for the medical tent had stretched all the way around the hedged camp, and that was before the Talons. She pictures hollowpoint rounds, a gun against her head, the blade slicing through Harper's lung, bodies lining the camp. Whose fatalities?

“In light of Sergeant Pettit’s brave actions in the line of fire, this Council is proud to recommend him for immediate promotion to the role of GCPD Commissioner. Sergeant Pettit, all of Gotham thanks you for your service.”

Barbara types a series of commands into her computer and Pettit’s picture and service record appear on a neighboring screen. He's a white man in his late forties with a mustache - as if they'd looked for a central casting replacement for the outgoing Gordon. There's something else familiar about him, though. 

A moment later, the service record on screen transitions into Barbara's protest footage. It zooms in on the mouth, partially visible stache, and chin of one of the officers, ignoring his covered badge. 85% match - the screen reads. 

“You really do think you're above the law, don't ya? You fuckin’ vigilantes don't get to intimidate this city any longer. The law has to mean something. This city will not surrender to anarchy and disorder. This city doesn't belong to the League or your paid freaks. This city belongs to us and we will not stand down!” He fires in the clip.

Rose lets out a sharp gasp. Steph squeezes her shoulder.

“Hollowpoints,” Rose whispers, then her voice changes. “He ordered the kill shots. I'll kill him.”

“No death threats in the Clocktower,” Barbara calls. 

Cass’s face is ashen with shock and grief. This hurts her in a way even the Luthor verdict didn't seem to. “N-no. Not. Can't.”

Steph moves her other hand to Cass’s shoulder and starts tapping even though she wants to start screaming and never stop.

“The Council is extending a State of Emergency across the city until the riots subside. It is long past time we treated this city's epidemics of crime, drug trafficking, vagrancy, and destruction with the gravity they deserve.”

Steph's heart sinks. She doesn't want to know what this means for the people of the Narrows. 

We failed you, she clutches her partners' shoulders and tries not to cry. Gotham failed you.

“We have failed you for too long, Gothamites,” Cressida continues, as if she's followed the same line of thought. “It's on us to make it right. We are instituting new curfews, new sentencing, and new policies that take a hard line against crisis actors, villainy, and disorder. To those taking to the streets, we extend a final offer. Return to your homes, abide by the law, cooperate fully with the investigation, or be prosecuted under the full extent of the law. If it is constructive engagement you seek, it will not be found in looting and violence. Gotham today faces a choice between order and chaos, protection and destruction, rule of law and lawless vigilantism, and in the face of that choice we say once again, we will not be intimidated by you. As a proud fellow Gothamite, I ask of you once again: either stand with us, or stand down.”

“I'm not standing down,” Steph whispers.

“No,” Cass agrees.

“Me neither, babes,” Rose says. “Nia?”

Nia just shakes her head. She's wearing her vision expression still and there's a scared, haunted look in her eyes. Steph reaches over and takes her hand, hoping that it reaches her.

Harper would know how, she thinks for the thousandth time that day. Harper would know what to do.

She needs her partner desperately. They all do.

This could get so bad. 

They get an inkling of exactly how bad when Vicki Vale appears on screen for the afternoon news.

‘The GCPD has confirmed Sergeant William Pettit as Commissioner, beating out long-term presumed frontrunner Harvey Bullock, dark horse hero Sean Mahoney, and incoming Captain Maggie Sawyer,” Vicki Vale announces next. “Pettit is expected to speak at City Hall shortly.”

“Make it stop,” Nia voices what they're all thinking.

It doesn't.

***

It stays busy in the Clocktower.

Dinah drifts around the room, refilling coffee cups, handing out food, and checking in on the other Birds until Helena takes off her headphones, notices, and pulls the Canary down to sit next to her. Helena pats Dinah's back soothingly and says something about ‘taking your own advice’ before bending back over her work. The world may be ending, but Helena’s students will have their grades in on time.

Zinda mutters ‘to hell with it' and sets her thrice-cleaned guns to the side; Jessica steps out to go visit Simon in the hospital, and Steph tries not to get jealous since she can't go to her injured partner; Renee gets a message from either her source or her girlfriend, dry-brushes her teeth, and exits by way of the balcony. Frankie stumbles into the room, yawning against her crutches, and beelines for the coffeepot; Diana and Nubia take over the guest room to video call with Congressman Mal Duncan and League Chairman John Stewart; Cissie and Cassie take an extended Titans call in the main room, their voices overlapping with the screen.

Nightwing swings down from the rafters and lands easily at Barbara's side, trailed by Donna. “What'd I miss?”

“The usual shit,” Barbara answers with a scowl and a sip of coffee.

Dick raises their eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”

“Maybe worse,” Barbara nods. 

“I'll make the calls?” Dick offers. 

Donna puts her arm around Dick's shoulders and leans her head against theirs. “We both will.”

“Please,” says Barbara. Something seems to occur to her and she adds. “Make sure they know what's at stake. The Owls think they changed the game; it's time we took it back.”

Then she bends back over the computer. The all-knowing Oracle has work to do. Steph feels the beginnings of something more than hope spark in her chest. There's a plan. They'll figure something out. And the Owls will learn that justice - that the Narrows - won't be intimidated either.

***

Rose has dragged Cass back out to the balcony for another joint and Steph suspects, and thinks Oracle does too - an unauthorized loop around the patrol routes. She understands why they didn't invite her - she has a fresh concussion and a shattered wrist - and besides, one of them has to stay with Nia.

Her girlfriend's moved on from shaking and hyperventilating to burying her face in the blanket and refusing to come out. Steph doesn't exactly blame her, but she's worried and she doesn't know what to do.

Harper would know, she thinks again. She wonders if they're awake by now. She wonders if Cullen remembered to tell them the others survived the attacks. She wonders if they're warm.

The door opens and Roy Harper enters, trailed by an excited Shoes along with a contingent of protest leaders and Sirens. It's more people than Steph has ever seen in the Clocktower, and she's surprised Barbara agreed to host the meeting. 

Shoes waves. Steph waves back and realizes after that she should probably go say hi. But she can't move from her spot near Nia. She doesn't want to leave her for even a second. 

Instead, Steph looks back at the television and wishes she hadn't.

Pettit's confirmation speech as Commissioner is beginning. His mustache bobs against the microphone. Steph wishes she could reach through the screen and shave it off. 

There's a woman in a pressed dress uniform standing at attention a few feet behind him. The commentator identifies her as Maggie Sawyer and notes that there's no indication on what this means for her internal investigation into the GCPD for what the commentater insists on calling ‘Scarecrow’s Night.’

They all already know it isn't going to happen.

“I could waste time with speeches, but I prefer to let my actions speak for me. I'm issuing arrest warrants for every known individual responsible for making our city into a warzone, from Superman on down. For too long, Gotham’s relied on vigilantism as a substitute for law and order justice. Today, I want to make it clear that the armed thugs the world calls a League of Justice are no longer welcome in the great City of Gotham. Arrest warrants will be issued for any so-called vigilante who enters the city, no exceptions. Additional warrants will be issued to anyone involved in the terrorist movement that hijacked our screens, took over our streets, and attacked our brave officers. All injured officers will receive full commemorative honors. Those harboring the terrorists and holding back information - the vagrants, the rioters, the co-attackers - and all who aid and abet them will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Gotham City deserves Gotham Justice! We're gonna make that happen. My office is writing the requests for warrants as we speak, and believe me, they're gonna run out of printer ink. Welcome to the Pettit era, where we're putting criminality on hard notice.”

“Babs?” Frankie calls.

“Already on it,” Barbara responds. “The GCPD’s been updating their firewalls, but the software's still not good enough to keep me out. It looks like he really did send over warrants for every League member - that's political theater, he can try to enforce anti-vigilante laws all he wants but for the arrests to stick he'll need names.”

“Does he have names?” Steph asks. What she's really asking is: does he have Harper's name?

“A few. The clinic staff - no judge in Gotham will sign that; Oliver Queen-”

“Wait till I tell him,” Dinah laughs at that. “He'll appreciate that, he's been sulking since Roy called him the establishment.”

“You're on the list too, you know,” Barbara points out.

“You worry too much,” Dinah shrugs her shoulders. “It's not the first time for me either.”

Then Barbara goes very quiet.

“Harper's name is on that list,” Steph speaks her fear into existence.

“It is,” Barbara acknowledges. “So is yours, and while the Bluebird identity is still protected…”

“Spoiler isn't,” Steph finishes. In a way, she thinks she's known this was coming ever since she unmasked. She knew the risks, she chose them, she can live with them. She's not afraid of a piece of paper or a council full of Owls.

She's still Stephanie Brown, the spectacular Spoiler, and she's pissed as fuck now. They don't get to scare her away. They don't get to come after her partner. They don't get to win.

Chapter Text

The Clocktower is full of heroes in varying stages of costume. A group of protest leaders (and Rose) have taken over the balcony to ‘keep watch’, smoking weed and trading stories with the door open. Steph hears Rose's sharp smoker's laugh for the first time that day and something in her unclenches. One of them puts a song on and the music echoes into the space.

Burn it all down, build from the ground

Gave us no choice, are you listening now

Steph catches snippets from several competing conversations over the music. The Sirens and the Rogues are idly swapping heist lore; the Teen Titans are arguing about the newly announced Wendy the Werewolf Stalker reboot; Kate Godwin is amicably discussing her upcoming book with Jefferson Pierce and Victoria October. 

“Amber Joyce didn't put her entire life and sanity into Wendy to be replaced by an influencer,” Tim sighs. There's a chorus of agreement from the rest of the team. “Wendy isn't about likes, she's about having something worth fighting for. What does this Courtney Whitmore girl know about that?”

“You'd be surprised,” Arrowette mutters. 

“I doubt that somehow,” says Tim. Steph decides she's not in the mood for her ex right now and lets her focus drift to the next group.

“And then there he was, Barry Allan,” Leonard Snart reminisces in a tone that makes it clear he'd built a whole heist around asking the former Flash out. “Looking like he’d hung the entire goddamn moon. One smile and I was gone, just like that. They don't make ‘em that way anymore.”

Golden Glider gives her brother a long-suffering look and Heatwave laughs. Selina simply smiles and says ‘who among us?’ with a lilt in her voice. Holly kisses her cheek. Steph decides to give them the moment.

“I've already been sent a cease and desist,” Kate’s eye roll can be heard across the room. “For a children's picture book about a trans girl who wants to be a superhero in her neighborhood. I'm going to frame it and put it on my wall next to my JSA rejection letter.”

Victoria looks suitably impressed; Jefferson wants to add the book to his ‘young readers recommend’ list. Kate says she'll send them both a copy when it comes out. Steph makes a note to get one for Nia.

I just wanna rage, rage, rage

I gotta lotta rage, rage, rage

Green Lantern Guy Gardner is making constructs while Shoes and the Flash twins look on in wonder. Shoes turn to their father and whispers. “Dad, I want a Lantern ring.”

“I'm gonna go grey by the time I'm 35,” Roy tugs on his ponytailed hair. He's in a pile of Titans - Garth, Donna, Dick, Wally, Victor, Beast Boy - who've somehow all managed to fit onto one training mat. 

Dinah and Oliver Queen exchange a look that clearly reads ‘now you know how it feels’ and Oliver protests: “I wasn't gonna say anything!”

Dinah rolls her eyes at her ex, but she doesn't seem annoyed, just tired and a little out of spirits.

They all are. It's been a long 24 hours and it's only getting longer.

Mister government leaving all your people for dead,

But if we're out in the streets then it's a major offense

They might cut my mic, put me under arrest

Steph stops mid-lyric. She still hasn't fully processed the arrest warrant and truthfully, she's not sure how to feel about any of it. At least if she does end up in jail she might get to see Harper, she thinks.

The grief threatens to overwhelm her again, and she slips out to the balcony to join Anarky's group. Cass follows her out, dragging Nia with her, as the song continues.

And when they scream out what is all this for tell em there's nothing more Gotham than starting a war

Steph's at war now. But that's been true her whole damn life. She can handle it.

This time at least she's not alone.

***

The energy on the balcony is surprisingly charged. Steph had expected more muted grief, but the protest leaders aren't sad: they're angry, they're energized, and they're ready to fuck shit up. 

Steph fits in just fine. She's glad Nia and Cass are here with her – they both need something to pull them out of their own grieving. 

“I'm just saying, we should escalate in kind,” Alysia is near-manic. “They want a fire? Let's start some fucking fires, bitch!”

Steph suspects Jo's arm draped around her shoulders is the only reason Alysia is here and not out doing just that. 

“You already did that today,” Jo murmurs.

“I got fired, that doesn't count,” Alysia points out. This explains why she’s in her shift uniform and the hat she's covered in pins - Steph spots a cat pronoun pin, trans anarchy symbol, and one she now recognizes as the TULE logo.

“You got fired?” Steph can't hold back the concern, although Alysia doesn't sound particularly upset about it.

Alysia shrugs. “That's food service for you. You say the word ‘strike’ on the clock one time and they open the door just to show you out.”

“It’s still a good idea,” Anarky says. They've got their mask in a bag at their feet, and the wind whips at their long red-gold hair. “A general strike might be a good option moving forward - we get everyone to stay home in solidarity for a few weeks instead of gathering in the streets, reduce the amount of visible targets for the Owls while making an unavoidable statement.”

“Would make it clear our people aren't starting the war,” Cass agrees.

“War started long before us,” Miracle argues. “Maybe it's time we strike back.” 

Alysia agrees. “I'm a trans woman in the most dangerous city in America. I've been at war my whole life. I'm ready to take back the fight.”

“I’ll fight at your side any day,” Jo says. Her girlfriend shoots her a grin. 

“This is why I'm marrying you,” she murmurs. Jo squeezes her shoulder.

Cass glares at the three of them. “Have to be better.”

“Hate to agree, but she's right,” Rose says. Everyone stares. “You'll lose if you do.”

Steph remembers the way Rose talked about the counter protests in Bludhaven and knows she's speaking from experience. Nia shivers like she's seen this conversation before and knows where it leads. Steph hopes that's a good thing. 

“Doesn't mean it wouldn't be a worthwhile fight,” Miracle sounds almost wistful.

“We have the support of the people right now,” Anarky interjects. By the way they glance into the Clocktower meaningfully, Steph can tell they're partly talking about the League. “We should be careful with our next move. I'm not ready to throw that support away, especially with Talons in play.”

“Are you saying we shouldn't fight back?” Miracle gives them a sharp side eye.

“Never,” Anarky reassures her.

“Had me worried for a minute,” Miracle chides them gently. Anarky smiles at them like they're the only other person on the balcony. Something in Steph's chest flutters. She reaches over to squeeze Nia's hand.

“But it matters what we do now,” Nia speaks up. “It matters a lot.”

“We need to keep the solidarity we've built nationwide.” Sister Maggie, who up until this point has been content to smoke her CBD flower in peace, ashes her pipe and joins in. “That means we can't let them reduce this to Gotham street violence. We have to be shining lights.”

Onyx slides into the conversation. “While you debate solidarity and peace, my people are already fighting ‘street violence’ against the ones derailing us. There's no choice here - we fight back or they attack unchallenged.”

There's no argument that can be made in response to that. Steph has a feeling that she'll be on the ground in the next few days – or as soon as she's medically cleared – defending people against attacks regardless of if those attacks are coming from the Owls or other Gothamites.

***

Barbara calls the meeting to order. Steph and the others file into the packed Clocktower. The mood is subdued yet defiant. Steph wouldn't expect anything else.

“Before we get started,” the Oracle says. “There's something you need to hear. After he left the courthouse this morning, the first thing Lex Luthor did was issue an internal memo stating that TULE has 48 hours to disband and turn over its member lists – those who come forward, name names, and disavow their membership will retain their jobs with only a moderate pay cut and those who do not will be summarily fired.”

“Can he do that?” Nia asks, her voice heavy like she already knows the answer and that it won't matter if he can't: either way, he's already doing it. 

Barbara shrugs. “His lawyers are arguing that because TULE is not a legitimately recognized union his actions don't violate laws against union busting. They're also threatening to go after Wayne Industries and Steelworks on corporate sabotage charges, alleging - without any basis - that TULE is a plot by Lex’s competitors to undermine his company.”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” John Henry Irons sighs. “I'm still going to publicly hire fired TULE ringleaders. My lawyers can keep Lex tangled up in court long enough for me to help the people get back on their feet.”

“This lawyer's going to be tangled up in court for months along with you,” a woman in a disheveled red pantsuit mutters. This must be the defense attorney Dinah mentioned before - something Spencer. “I looked at some of those warrants. They're throwing the fucking book at your people.”

Steph wants to pull her aside and ask about Harper's warrant and the defense for them, but now doesn't seem to be the time.

“We'll get to that,” Barbara grimaces. “But first, there's something you need to see.”

She types a few commands into the computer and the biggest screen pulls up a livestreamed show from earlier today.

“This is the Strong Arm, Dirk Armstrong, coming at you live with some super human strength for your morning,” a man's sharp voice announces.

“Seriously?” asks Linda Park. “Dirk Armstrong is a radio shock jock. What could he possibly–?”

“This is the second thing Luthor did today,” Barbara says seriously.

“And by super human strength, I mean all around superb human and Metropolis king Lex Luthor, calling us after his exoneration by both the courts and the course of history, Lex, welcome to the show,” Dirk Armstrong intones. Steph dislikes him instantly. He's the kind of aggressive radio host grievance-monger her father might've listened to between planning his heists, although she's never encountered him specifically before. She knows the type - she grew up with the type.

Rose pats her shoulder once. “I'd say there, there but…”

“It's implied,” Steph reassures her. Truthfully, she appreciates Rose's attempt at comfort. She has enough of Rose's background now to know that her girlfriend understands on a level most people – even most heroes – will never manage.

Steph's eyes find Helena Bertinelli in the crowd, staring at her with deliberate, unrelenting concern. Helena is still the only person she's ever trusted with the full story, although Barbara figured it out and Cass–Cass probably sees it whenever she looks at Steph. Steph is trying to be okay with that, but she doesn't want to be the center of their attention now with so much else at stake. 

Rose leaves her hand on Steph’s shoulder, grounding her in this moment with these people. She leans into the touch gratefully. Next to them, Cass is embracing Nia, who seems to be having a similar reaction to the podcast host.

Lex’s audio is a little tinny, but his voice is clear when he takes the mic. “Glad to be here. It's been a very long year.”

“How's it feel to be proven right, I mean, the Justice League engages in invasion warfare on human soil, on American soil and they expect, what, for us to just sit back and take it when they threaten law enforcement, violate city legal ordinances, broadcast lies across our airwaves, and spread terror across our great country – across our great world? No, no we're not gonna take it. Gotham’s not gonna take it – they're issuing warrants for these freaks ‘from Superman on down’; Hub City's not gonna take it – they're refusing to punish Mr. Luthor for his actions in defense of humanity– ‘the extenuating circumstances that led to his ‘crimes’’ why, they're practically thanking the man, as they should, as they should, he's a goddamn national treasure – and Metropolis's not! gonna! take! it! We're welcoming Lex back to our city and onto our show with strong, open arms and grateful hearts, Lex, thanks for being here, man,” Dirk Armstrong doesn't pause for breath, even as a bad unlicensed cover of ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It' plays under his words.

“Thanks for having me,” Lex Luthor begins. “You know, I think it's past time we call this ‘protest movement’ what it is? A coup attempt by the self-proclaimed, self-appointed, self-regulating ‘League of Justice’ against a government that is, by all ballot-based accounts, exceedingly popular among its base.”

“I want ya to repeat that last bit, Lex, I want you to really stress it ‘exceedingly popular among it's base’ which makes you really wonder, where's the so-called mass outpouring of support for this coming from - it's not Gotham, Gotham overwhelmingly reelected its city council in a special election just last year - what, spotted that sorceress, spotted that Martian at the riots, makes you wonder about mental manipulation and – and, like, Oliver Queen? That guy's a sellout nut who's trying to buy his way to the presidency, promising, what, all kinds of funds if you march in the streets, if you abandon your values, if you turn on your own kind, if you rig the vote for Queen in November. Where's Bruce Wayne in all this? What fingers does he have in the so-called ‘people’s movement’? He's been awfully quiet, but we know he funded TULE to undermine Lexcorp, we know those fools have already issued a ‘statement of solidarity and support' - solidarity and support for the terrorists who are wrecking Gotham as we speak?”

“As we speak,” Luthor reiterates.

“Exactly! Are you outta your damn minds? Like, you just really gotta ask yourself if, in a city like Gotham, in a city like yours, there'd be this many people turning out in support of, oh, that's right, Scarecrow gang members, drug addicts, criminals. I mean, come on, they wouldn't, the idea’s absurd.” Dirk Armstrong finally pauses for breath.

“It's absolutely absurd,” Luthor cuts in smoothly, as if he's been waiting for a chance. “It shows how much power and influence we've ceded to the League already, that they expect us not to question their judgement. Superman says your government needs to go and who are you to argue with Superman?”

“Well, you are hearing from a man who's built an empire on his ability to do just that so if you take one thing away from this segment know this: the Justice League waited till they thought Lex Luthor was out of the game to start their takeover, but they played their hand too soon because you can't keep a good American, a good human down. Lex Rex!”

Barbara turns the clip off to a collective sigh of relief. “He goes on to call for a congressional investigation into revoking the League's status while simultaneously calling the protestors victims and attackers. He still hasn't announced his presidential run, but after that interview the consensus seems to be that it's only a matter of time.”

“That’s all bullshit,” Nia almost shouts. She sounds like she wants to cry but can't. Steph understands the feeling.

“Lex Luthor is fucking bullshit,” Shoes actually does shout. Roy facepalms, but he looks proud. The Strays' Helena high fives Shoes, who grins defiantly around the room like they're daring someone to argue.

“No disagreement here,” Dinah agrees. “But he's put the League in an untenable position. I spent an hour this morning on the phone with John at the Hall. He's willing to fight this if we are. So, Justice League, I'm asking you now. Do you want to stand and fight?”

“That's not even a question,” Nightwing says.

“What kind of heroes would we be if we didn't?” Wonder Woman asks.

“No kind at all,” Huntress chimes in. “We fight this fight.”

There's a resounding chorus of agreement and Steph joins in.

This is our fight.

Chapter Text

The Clocktower meeting is the closest Steph has ever been to a Justice League battle plan, and she watches the ebb-flow push-pull between the protest leaders, the various ‘villains,’ and the League members with something like fascination.

“Gotta say, I was expecting a ‘follow the law' pushback,” Heatwave rumbles. 

Diana shrugs. “If the choice is between the law and justice, my sisters and I will choose justice every time.”

“The Amazons have diplomatic immunity,” Lt. Candy explains. “Let's see them try to cancel that out.”

“Not everyone does,” Steph mutters, thinking about Harper.

“I'm working on that,” Kate Spencer points out.

“Point though,” Miracle says. “Who's looking out for our people behind bars in the meantime?”

“Especially since the Owls are about to start arresting more regardless of whether they're involved or not,” Anarky adds.

Captain Cold laughs. “If it's protection you want, I can get in and out of any prison on the planet. Let me run the breakout of a century and see how these Owl fucks handle that.”

“Unless you have a way to neutralize the Talons, let's shelve the breakout plans for now,” Barbara warns. Her voice turns thoughtful. “A prisoner protection network isn't a bad idea though. I wouldn't put it past the Owls to target protest leaders behind bars.”

“They've done it before,” Onyx agrees. “We are not the first Narrows Justice movement and if we don't watch our people they'll take them out as they did the last ones.”

Steph shivers, thinking about Harper's looming arrest again. She can't think about anything else right now, truthfully, no matter how hard she tries to be present here. Everything ties back to her partner.

“I say we play this Hard Travelin’ style,” Ollie Queen says.”They want to arrest me, they can arrest me. They know where to find me – my identity’s public, Connor's got Star well in hand while I'm gone and my assistant’s always telling me she does more of the governing work than I do.”

“I've met her,” Roy chimes in. “She's telling the truth.”

His mentor shoots him a faux-offended look that turns into another easy grin midway through, like Oliver can't bear to even pretend to be upset with Roy, especially not with his kid present. “That's what I'm saying, I keep trying to convince her to primary me next term but she likes me too much to go for it.”

“A few high profile arrests could be a good way to keep focus on us, put people who’re almost too big to target on the front lines,” Anarky pulls the conversation back. “If you're willing, that is.”

“I'm willing and ready,” Oliver Queen notches an arrow. “Let's go build a prisoner's union.”

“Me too,” Dinah says. Oliver looks a little stunned. “We protect our people – inside and outside of bars. It's not like it would be my first arrest either.”

“Dinah, a word?” Barbara beckons her girlfriend over, but they keep the conversation audible. “I understand the need to have someone we can trust absolutely in both men's and women's at Blackgate, as well as potentially someone in Arkham, but are you sure it should be you?”

“What are you saying?” Dinah crosses her arms. “We need someone who's a household name, preferably a League member, if we're going to make a statement out of it. I'm your best bet at that. Send me in.”

Barbara sighs. “Gotham isn't Star, Di. There's no guarantee that–”

“Don’t talk to me about risk. I know that risk all too well,” Dinah interrupts. “I live with it every damn day. That makes it mine to take, Babs.”

Barbara stares at her girlfriend for a long time, like she's memorizing her sharp curves and soft ferocity, and then she tilts her head up to be kissed in something like a nod. Dinah gives her lips to Barbara's heedless of the audience and then they're kissing like they're the only two people left in the room.

Next to Steph, Nia's eyes well up and Cass presses a soft kiss to her clenches fists. Steph leans in and begins tapping her shoulders, as Rose stands silent watch. Steph doesn't quite understand the risk they're discussing, but Nia seems to and it's affecting her deeply.

Zatanna clears her throat. “I will go with you.”

It's not a question. She's not trying to talk Dinah out of taking her stand. She's simply holding out her hands and asking to carry some of the weight. Steph doesn't know much about the magician, but she's impressed. Nia's sigh of relief is audible across the room.

Barbara nods, relieved. Dinah crosses the room and hugs her friend tightly, gratefully

“Alright, so that's Dinah and Zee for the women's lockup and Oliver for the men's,” Barbara summarizes. 

“Ollie and me,” Guy Gardner rumbles. “I may not be the Hard Travelin' Lantern you started with, but I'm the one you're getting. Hal would never forgive me if I let his best mate go it alone.”

Oliver gives him a fist bump and a shoulder clasp. There's an audible lump in his throat as he says. “Glad to have you on board, man.”

“Wouldn't miss it,” Guy says jovially, but there's a genuine undercurrent in his tone.

“Alright,” Barbara’s voice is tight. “That covers Blackgate. Our best bet for Arkham is probably for me to plant someone on staff. Helena, how's your undercover?”

“Better than you remember,” Helena nods. 

“I'll have your credentials by tonight,” Barbara promises, clearly relieved.

“And while you're off doin’ that, we cause some real trouble,” rumbles Heatwave again. 

The Green Arrow flashes him an approving grin. “Counting on it.”

***

Bart and Jess arrive with Vietnamese doughnuts, coffee, and milk tea for the group, chattering in mutual unintelligible speedtalk as they distribute snacks from the oversized warmer.

“You're giving me a headache,” Rose moans, but she doesn't seem too annoyed. She takes a contemplative sip of her tea. “You know I don't remember giving Oracle my go-to order?”

Cass pats her back. “How she cares. Get used to it.”

Nia inhales her first coffee and gratefully accepts a second and then reaches for a third. Rose glares at her until she takes a bite of food first, for which Steph is grateful: Nia seems to be taking today harder than the rest of them, and it's good that Rose’s precognition, at least, seems to be able to meet her where she's at. Steph would hate for her girlfriend to be stranded somewhere she couldn't reach like-like...Harper, alone in Gotham General and probably – hopefully? – awake by now and definitely worried about us too and–

Suddenly, Steph can't be here in this space full of hope and defiance, surrounded by people who aren't Harper. She slips into the guest hallway, not needing to look back to know Cass is following, and dials Harper's number. She needs to let her partner know she misses them, that she's still fighting for them, that she is going to keep believing in their tomorrow with everything she has left and when it comes to Harper Row, ‘whatever Steph has left’ is the entire world–her entire world.

“I told you to leave us alone,” Cullen hisses an answer. “Harper's getting arrested because of you. You think either of us want anything to do with you now?”

Stephanie almost flinches back, but it'll take a lot more than a disapproving younger brother to deter her from her love. Cass sits down next to her and leans her head against Steph's shaking shoulder.

“I think you have Harper's phone and they don't even know I called. You don't have to like me, you can hate me all you want, just make sure they know I didn't –”

Cass nudges her and Steph amends. “We won't leave them to face this alone, okay?”

Cullen sighs. “Fine. But you owe us both big time.”

“I owe Harper everything,” Steph fires back a correction. “I don't owe you shit.”

“Yeah, well, agree to disagree I guess, because Harper never would've even been there if you hadn't pulled them into your vigilante bullshit,” Cullen sounds so defeated Steph can't figure out how to be mad. He's a scared kid who's watching the person he loves most fight for their life and future right now. She just wishes he'd stop taking it out on everyone else and hurting Harper in the process.

Cass taps the phone and Steph holds it out to her. “Not true. Not fair. Harper always fights. Know this deep down.”

Cullen sighs. “I'll…tell them you called. That might be the best I can do. Harper's literally handcuffed to the bed right now and they don't exactly let felons have phone access.”

The call ends. Steph stares straight at the wall and tries not to cry. The image of Harper waking up after surgery, handcuffed and alone with no way of reaching anyone, dances across her vision and her eyes swim.

“Harper always fights,” Cass repeats hollowly, like she's trying to convince herself they'll be alright. Her hand finds Steph's and they sit there together for a long time, clutching each other in the closest thing either of them knows to prayer.

***

They return to the meeting hand in hand, to find Cissie, Tim, and Cassie conferring in sharp, argumentative whispers. 

Then Arrowette steps forward. “While your focus is on Gotham, who's protecting the other protests? Empress, Red Devil, Secret, and Dawn ended up staring down the Suicide Squad in Louisiana; back in SanFran someone drove a car full of explosives into the crowd and the twins barely got it disarmed in time with the help of a new hero; we all saw the Hub City and Metropolis footage this morning. Gotham needs heroes, yes, but if the movement is bigger than Gotham then don't the rest of the marchers deserve protection too?”

“What are you saying?” Dinah asks gently.

“Just…” Cissie looks down. Cassie draps an arm around her friend's shoulder and slides into the conversation easily.

“Just that we'll fly back if–if we have to, but we're going to San Francisco. I know the Amazons need me, but the Titans are my family too and I have to be there for them,” Cassie is addressing the room, but she's looking directly at the other Amazons.

“You speak well,” says Diana. “The justice we seek may begin in Gotham, but it grows across this land. We would do well to meet it.”

Barbara pulls up a map of the nationwide protests and areas most at risk and begins delegating out who will stay and who will go. 

Martian Manhunter is going to Hub City alone; Cyborg, Garth, and Beast Boy will cover the East Coast; Steel is of course returning to Metropolis with Black Lightning's daughters and Rocket (Karen is there now but Steph gathers she's planning on returning to Gotham posthaste); the Titans – now including Aqualad and with Green Lantern Kyle Rayner as adult supervision – are headed for San Fran; One of the Hawkwomen is apparently seeing a Star labs specialist for her injured wing, and the other wants to be at her side; Wally is returning to Central City with the twins, at least until he can get them settled in with ‘Uncle Jay’, who Steph gathers is the retired JSA Flash Jay Garrick; and Superman will come and go as needed.

That leaves them with fewer than Steph would have wanted, but still a large contingent – both Arrows, Zatanna, two Lanterns and the visibly conflicted Star Sapphire who mutters ‘I'm definitely getting court martialed for this’ under her breath, Black Lightning, Kate Godwin, the Amazons, the full force of Birds and Bats minus Batman, most of the Rogues, the Sirens, and the Strays, as well as the existing protest leaders. 

Still, Steph finds herself nervous – they barely beat the Owls with the full League turning out, what will it mean to have their forces split like this? - even as she understands that after today, after Luthor, they don't have a choice. 

They have to protect the full force of the movement. They have to stand with TULE against the Lexcorp attacks. They have to keep defending the Narrows with what they have, just like they always do.

We're going to need a lot more heroes.

Steph thinks about the high school students at the protest, about the vigils across the country, about all the people who've shown up in so many different ways. She thinks they're already halfway there.

It isn't quite hope – Steph is still struggling to hold onto that sensation; she thinks it won't fully return until she's holding Harper again – but it's close, and right now that's enough. It has to be.

Stephanie Brown is not about to let the grief or the fear break her now. She's had far too much experience with both for that.

Chapter Text

Rose drags the Bad Girls outside for an extended smoke break that’s really just an excuse for sharing grief and kisses. It's badly needed – it's been hours since Steph has kissed Rose or Nia, and that's simply unacceptable.

(It's been twenty hours and fourteen minutes since she kissed Harper but she can't think about that right now.)

Right now is for kissing away Nia’s flowing tears and letting Rose press a smokey kiss into Steph's open mouth. Right now is for Cass’s deft fingers at her chest and sharp, delicate teeth at her throat.

It's for seeking comfort and safety in each other and finding it again, again, again.

It's also Harper's unwanted absence, their partial ghost hovering between them as Steph looks over at her partners and says. “After this, we need to find a way to visit Harper.”

“Yes,” says Cass. “Yes, please. Need them here.”

“I need them too,” Steph agrees. Nia nods, the tears threatening to start up again.

“I bet Bart could get us in undetected,” says Rose thoughtfully. “And Wendy owes me a favor, if Frankie and Oracle won't get us in.”

“Isn't she in San Fran?” Steph points out, although she agrees that Barbara isn't likely to let them take the risk right now.

“We have a Bart,” Rose says. “Distance isn't the issue.”

Bart appears on the balcony, Jess in tow. “Iheardmynamewhatsup?”

I heard my name. What's up? Steph translates mentally. 

“We might need a favor,” Rose says. 

“Great!” Bart pumps his fist. “I accept payment in burritos. Um, what's the favor?”

Steph lets herself relax a little bit more. She smiles. “We need to figure out how to see Harper.”

“I am so totally on that,” says Bart. “Also, Jess is filling in for me on the Titans so I can do more protest with you guys!”

Steph's smile stretches into a grin. Bart is staying. They're going to get to see Harper. She could almost let herself start to believe things will be okay.

***

But they return to chaos. Holly holds Selina close as aching, yowling sobs tear their way out of her throat. Shoes stands on a chair, shouting every swear word they know in at least six languages in between creative threats of bodily harm to the Owls, the GCPD, and Gotham itself. The Strays' Helena mutters ‘should’ve been there, should've suited up, could've stopped this’ under her breath.

Steph thinks she knows even before Sister Maggie says it. “They raided the loft. It's been shut down on charges of encouraging vagrancy and violating lease requirements. Leo’s dead – he died buying time for the people who were staying there to get out.”

Steph feels cold. She thinks about what Selina's loft meant to the various Strays and street kids of Gotham. She thinks about what it meant to her, even though she was never really one of them, just a lost girl who needed a place to stay for a few nights when her father's friends were around and she couldn't go home.

The Cat's loft was that place for her – for a lot of people. This isn't the first raid it’s weathered and it won't be the last. Steph knows this, just as she knows that Selina and Holly will eventually be back in business and back offering shelter. But it still aches somewhere deep inside her.

“I don't understand,” Helena Bertinelli says. “I was told you had mob protection.”

Holly answers her. “Eiko's informants didn't know anything. For the GCPD to be able to pull off a raid like this in broad daylight with no one knowing it was coming…”

“There was nothing on the scanners,” says Frankie apologetically. “I've been monitoring the whole time. They must be using a new frequency. If I'd heard anything, I would've told you, and–”

“And we would've gone,” Alysia finishes.

“We all would have,” Dinah says firmly. Steph would've been on the front lines of the defense if she could've been, not just because it's personal but because that's what being a hero means: She's glad her League understands that.

The lights flicker and then the Bat of Gotham is standing in the center of the Clocktower. “And all you – any of you – would have accomplished is leaving more chaos and destruction in your wake.”

Shoes throws themself at him, fists flailing. “Why. Weren't. You. There? You. Absolute. Fuckbastard.”

The Bat catches them out of the air and hands them off to Roy with a summarily quelling look. They glare back at him, undeterred, from the safety of their father's arms. 

“I,” he intones, “was trying to staunch the flow of blood you've unleashed across my city, while you sat eating doughnuts and plotting further annihilation. This is on your heads, not mine. If you continue this path, Leo Carreras will be only the first of many.”

“Still,” says Cass, sounding almost heartbroken. “We fight. You fight. Protect every life. You taught me that.”

“And I tried,” says Batman, in the gentle tone Steph's only ever heard him use with Cass, the one that means ‘I expect you of all people to understand why I’m right.’ “But I can't be everywhere, and the rest of my team seems to have left me alone on the front lines in a city on fire.”

His gaze flicks between Robin, Azrael, Nightwing, and Oracle, before landing back on Cass. He doesn't acknowledge Steph, as if he's already written her off completely but still expects better from the ones he's personally sanctioned. She's a little relieved – she wants to keep her focus on protecting Cass, not defending herself pointlessly against his disapproving weight. Meanwhile, Drake looks away, Jean-Paul just keeps eating his donut, Dick glares back, and Oracle doesn't bother to so much as look back at him.

“Should have been there,” Cass whispers.

“Yes,” says Batman in his normal disappointed tone. “You should have. But you – all of you – abandoned your posts, and a man paid for your decisions with his life.

Cass flinches. Steph pulls her into a protective hug and starts Harper's soothing taps, as Nia glares ferociously at the Bat and Rose steps between them, visibly about to reach for a hidden knife.

“Don't start,” he warns her, as Rose mouths ‘bite me’ and Steph wonders if they're headed for a repeat of that terrible night in the Clocktower.

“Then leave Cass alone,” Steph snaps. The Bat turns the full force of his glare on Steph.

“You,” he growls. “Don't think I've forgotten your part in all of this. I tolerated your presence when I thought you were merely a benign distraction, but you've proven yourself unworthy of even that. Your father would be proud of the mess you've made.”

Steph flinches back so hard she loses her grip on Cass. Rose draws a knife and Nia fires up a fist. Across the room, Dick moves into striking position and Helena starts pushing towards the girls. The Catwoman gets there first.

“You knew they were coming,” Selina tears free of Holly's grip and stalks forward, whip in hand, refocusing the conversation. “You had to have known. The GCPD doesn't make a move that big without you knowing.”

Batman tilts his head. “I knew it was likely. You have my condolences. I know Carreras meant a lot to you. I am sorry, Selina.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” Selina flashes her claws. She turns to face the crowd. “The GCPD will not protect us. The Bat will not protect us. We have to protect us. We have to make them pay for it.”

There's a widespread chorus of agreement that dies with another targeted series of Bat glares. Steph tries to keep it going but she's shaking too hard to form words.

“What you have to do,” he says, “is stand down now, before this gets any worse than it already is. Where does this end for you? When is enough enough? Riots in the streets, looting and assault on every corner, a militant buffoon in the commissioner's chair, an unchecked council, and a wave of anti-League sentiment that seems likely to propel Lex Luthor to the presidency.”

Anarky steps forward, mask on and glinting dangerously. “See, what I'm hearing is that this city needs us. You say the ‘chaos’ is a mark against our cause, I say it's proof we need to stand up now or risk losing everything for good.”

Batman's eyes narrow behind his cowl. “Anarky. Lonnie Manchin. Why am I not surprised that you see no problem upending the lives of millions to advance your crackpot social agenda?”

Anarky shrugs off the name, if it's even theirs, which Steph doubts even though that doesn't seem like a thing Batman would get wrong. Then again, Batman's getting a lot wrong today. 

“See, from where I'm standing you've got the cause and effect wrong here. I'm not the one ‘upending lives’ – that would be the Council and your GCPD. They're the ones enacting violence. We're just fighting back,” Anarky counters.

More widespread agreement, although this time Steph's a little too busy staring at the continuing hurt radiating between herself, Cass, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nia, to join in. She slides the sword Rose gave her months ago from her own belt and holds it out to her girlfriend, who takes it with a grateful look and positions herself defensively in front of the other three in case the Bat's unwanted attention returns.

“You call unchecked looters assaulting upstanding Gothamites ‘just fighting back.’ Hmph,” Batman looks around at the assembled League members. “Is this fool Manchin really where you want to place your allegiance? What has he done that you'd believe him worthy of your faith and not the padded Arkham cell where he belongs?”

“They,” Nia mouths. Alysia notices and flashes her a commiserating look, like it's bothering her too. Steph reaches for Nia's hand. Nia squeezes back, both of them needing the reminder of the other's presence even as Cass shrugs off any attempt to share the comfort.

Onyx steps forward, knuckles cracking into a prepared but not yet thrown punch. “We are the ones getting attacked. You forget we are Gothamites too.”

The Bat looks unconvinced by this argument. It makes perfect sense to Steph, but then again, the Bat has never cared about people like her and Anarky and Onyx. It makes sense that he wouldn't be able to think of them as ‘upstanding Gothamites.’

Miracle moves into the conversation, supported by crutches now. “Didn't start the looting, didn't start the violence. Just responding to attacks – GCPD, Talons, counter movement, even clowns taking advantage. Don't see why we're supposed to lie back and think of justice when we could stand up and fight for it.”

“Mary Kowalski,” Batman sighs. “There’s a missing persons report with your name on it in Burnside. Your brother and husband are looking for you. I've half a mind to tell them where to find you, but the thought of their disappointment at seeing what you've become has stayed my hand. Go home to your family and end this madness of your own accord, or I'll ensure that you do.”

Miracle laughs. “You think tossing around threats and deadnames makes you look like a big man? From where I stand, you're nothing but a scared one, worried that if we make a new Gotham there won't be any reason to fear the big bad Bat, propping up a status quo that gets good people killed for no reason and drives the rest to crime, drugs, and pain. You want me to go home? I say these people are my home and I'm gonna keep right on fighting next to them. Let the past find me if you want – I stopped being scared of it a long time ago. Can you say the same?”

Jo steps forward. “We all did. It's why we're committed to making a better world, one where fear and injustice are entirely of the past, not tools to be inflicted by the powerful against this city and our loved ones.”

The Bat snarls at her. She squeezes Alysia's hand, but doesn't flinch back. He seems disappointed.

“Leave the kids alone, Bats,” Oliver Queen notches an arrow on his bowstring. He sounds disgusted. “Isn’t this shit beneath you?”

“Queen,” Batman growls with a personal animosity. “Take your political grandstanding out of my city or I'll remove you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” Oliver rolls his eyes.

“Enough!” Dinah screams, the full force of the Canary Cry cutting through the tension. Fury radiates off of her.

Diana slams her sword into the floor just in case anyone somehow missed the message. “Batman, I am holding you in contempt. With the presence of the Owl Council's undead assassins, you ought to understand the need for a unified League response. You may choose not to assist, but this investigation is moving forward with the full force and support of the League, and the League does not operate in such threats as those you have invoked today. In the name of Artemis, defender of the fight; Aphrodite of love and choice; and Athena of the wise battle, I, Diana of Themyscira, hereby censure you. You are unwelcome in this space. Should you seek to join this fight in good faith and camaraderie, we can discuss this. Until then, I ask that you depart.”

The rest of the Amazons move to flank her, followed by a visibly pissed off Kate Godwin in a t-shirt that reads ‘respect existence or expect MY resistance.’ 

When Batman doesn't move, Barbara wheels forward. “You and me, conversation, now.”

Her tone doesn't allow for argument and after a moment, the Bat follows her into the nearest alcove.

Steph catches ‘self-righteous bully’ and ‘ruling through fear, not justice’ in Barbara's wrathful voice, and lets herself start breathing again.

Dinah pauses to speak to Anarky and Miracle, who look more shaken now that they've had time to process Batman's threats; which means Helena reaches the Bad Girls first. She pulls first Steph, then Cass and Nia, into her arms as Rose stands furious guard.

“He should never have spoken to you like that,” Helena's quiet fury soothes the pulsing of Steph's frantic heart and Nia's flaring lights. “He has no right.”

“How he is,” Cass says apologetically, shrugging out of the hug even as Nia and Steph stay where they are.

“Then he should be better,” Helena doesn't take the dismissal for what it is. She meets Cass’s eyes. “How he treats you is unacceptable. I want you to know that.”

Helena moves one of her hands from the hug briefly, although both girls stay safely tucked into her cape, to sign ‘unacceptable’ at Cass, who only stares back blankly. 

“None of this is your fault,” Helena says, placing her hand back firmly on Nia's shoulder. “Please tell me you understand that.”

Cass doesn't answer and some additional part of Steph that had somehow not broken under Batman's words shatters.

“Cass…” Steph says gently. Rose slides the sword into her belt and holds her hand out to her girlfriend and after another agonizing minute, Cass takes the hand. It's the best they're going to get right now. 

Barbara wheels back into the room. “He's gone. Anyone who wishes to leave after that can do so, but otherwise, I’d like to go ahead with the plan if there are no objections.”

No one leaves. No one objects. 

“Then we move forward,” the Oracle announces. She flings up her hands in the Cat's Shadow and the room answers with defiant, upraised hands. Steph holds up her own hand – so do the other Bad Girls.

They are the Narrows. They are Gotham City. They are the motherfucking Justice League, and nothing and no one can scare them away – not the Owls, not the GCPD, not Lex Luthor, not even Batman himself.

They are brave. 

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the Clocktower is tight after the Bat’s departure, the weight of what they're doing a tangible taste in the air. People cluster together in bursts of determined, angry chatter, their fervor rising with every news story that breaks on Barbara’s screens; the consistent beat of rising nation-wide riot footage and political poll numbers, as the Luthor verdict and the Narrows Strong movement car crash into each other and everything, everyone burns.

Steph sees the despair flooding Nia’s frozen face as she stares, numb to the world, at the screens; Barbara’s advice to ‘pick one and focus on it’ long-ignored. 

She’s from Metropolis, Steph remembers. Her home is burning along with our future.

She closes the distance between them and bends to press a kiss to Nia’s sweat-plastered hair. Up close, her girlfriend’s entire body is shuddering as she chokes on her own breath. Steph pulls her into her arms and tries to think of something to say that will make this hurt less. The words don’t come.

“They showed A-Town,” Nia’s voice is very small. “That’s where — after my family, I stayed there. It’s…”

Burning, Steph fills in, squeezing Nia tighter. 

“My friends are there,” Nia turns to face her, her eyes welling up. “Galaxy and Kat and Yvette. Mama Bea. They’re there and it’s burning and I’m just …here.”

Nia buries her face in Stephanie’s shoulder and lets herself cry. Steph holds her and tries to infuse the hug with every tiny piece of hope she’s managed to salvage, which isn’t much. Right now, it feels like the entire world is dying in fire.

Steph can still feel the Bat’s eyes on her, blaming her for the flames. She can’t let herself believe him, but there’s a small, insistent part of her that wants to. 

Your father would be proud, Batman had said. It’s times like this that Steph has to stop and remind herself that he can’t possibly know. He isn't actually omniscient. Tim would’ve passed on the same story she gave everyone who bothered to ask instead of just drawing their unpleasant conclusions; the story about her older boyfriend and stability-seeking during the quake that plays to everyone's worst impressions of her because the truth is harder to bear than their disappointment could ever be. 

She catches Helena's too-knowing gaze on her and looks away, tries to focus on the turmoil around her instead of her racing thoughts.

Next to her, Cass is cat-twitchy and silent. Rose twines a knife between her fingers as she stares around the Clocktower with a narrowed eye and a biting smile. Steph huddles next to her girlfriends, clutching Nia for dear life, wishing she had her Spoiler cape to disappear beneath, but its ashes in one of the protest tents. She wraps her arms around herself and rocks back slightly. It isn’t enough. 

Batman, Steph thinks grimly. Sure did a number on us. 

She’s not sure how to begin to go about fixing it. Harper would know.

She dismisses that thought like she has so many times today. Harper isn’t here. 

And whose fault is that? asks an internal voice that sounds a lot like Batman’s trademarked growl. He could sue her anxieties for copyright infringement — at this rate, he’d probably win. But they're not wrong – the spear that took out Harper’s lung was meant for her. If she hadn’t gone after the Talons on her own, her partner never would’ve been there to be hurt. 

Steph fingers the dried blood on her shirt. It flakes off in her hands. 

Harper’s blood.

Stephanie can't breathe. Her lungs are full with spent grief and someone else's guilt. Her body aches and she can't breathe and her partner's blood is falling from her hands like so much spent ash. She’s alone in a room full of heroes, searching for a reason not to come apart now and finding only her pain.

She's never felt less like a hero. 

Harper's going to prison, she thinks dully.

Her eyes catch defense attorney Kate Spencer over on one of the gym mats. Spencer pours over photocopied warrants, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around her. She swears up a storm in one breath and unmutes her old BlackBerry phone to wish her kid a good night in the next. The other Helena is sitting next to her, quietly sorting through the files, seemingly unaffected by Spencer's frenzy.

Steph marches over to them, her lips narrowed. This is something she can do to help Harper now.

“Gotham City code will be the death of me,” Spencer mutters. She looks up to catch Steph’s motion. 

“What do you want?” She's brusque, but not unkind.

Steph takes a steading breath. “I want to help you get my partner out of prison. Harper Row. Bluebird, but the Owls don’t know that.”

Kate Spencer sighs. “I’ve got a lot of people to get out of prison.”

“I know, but they’re—the Owls already almost killed them once and they’re in the hospital now and I—“ Steph runs out of breath, unsure how to keep going but knowing she must. 

Spencer shakes her head as she puts her hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I can, kid.”

It’s not meant as a dismissal. Steph knows that. But it feels like one just the same, and she’s just so tired of people dismissing her. She’s just trying to help fix this mess she helped make. She’s not…she’s just trying to make it better.

She backs away slowly. Helena says something to Spencer, too low for Steph to hear, but she's already gone by the time the words land.

Steph climbs up into the Clocktower's rafters, where she can watch the movement unfold without being seen. She can see the entire space from up here, all the blaring screens and weary heroes and scared, angry Gothamites who won't let the fear win. 

As she watches, Cass looks up, and gives her a tiny wave that turns into a blown kiss. Steph raises her aching wrist and catches the kiss in the Cat's Shadow, the movement becoming reflexive by now. She holds the kiss tightly between her fingers and tries to remember how to be okay.

***

The prison team huddles around Guy Gardner’s constructed projection of Blackgate, along with Barbara, Renee Montoya, Leonard Snart, and Roy (Shoes dozing off in his lap). They’re hammering out the details of the plan in sharp, deliberate whispers. ‘Go big as the moon’ and ‘we ride at dawn’ echo across the room in Ollie Queen’s booming voice, making Steph stifle a laugh from the position in the rafters where she's watching from a distance, unable to take the crowds or her girlfriends’ anxiety-tinted concern right now.

On Oliver’s left, Dinah is humming a fragment of something that will become a song one day, a kombucha bottle dangling from one hand and the other plucking out the shape of the future guitar cords on Zatanna’s knee. Zatanna, for her part, seems to be on the phone with her publicist, who's trying and seemingly failing to talk her out of the mission. 

“I don't care,” Zatanna snaps. “Vegas can wait. This takes – Dinah takes priority.”

Dinah grins. Zatanna hangs up the phone. “Elttob dnah won.”

The kombucha levitates out of Dinah's hands and into Zatanna’s. Black Canary rolls her jet-lined eyes, but lets Zatanna finish the bottle off instead of taking it back. Barbara snorts over her own coffee. Oliver strokes his goatee contemplatively and makes a noncommittal noise. Guy Gardner fiddles with his ring and miniscule constructs flutter out, sparking half-formed dreams into reality, sending them dancing across the top of the constructed prison. 

Steph lets her own thoughts drift back to last night — was it only last night? — in the tent, when the promise of a beautiful tomorrow had never seemed more real. She’d give anything to recapture that feeling, that shared sense of hope and love and future. 

Renee pulls the group (and Steph) back into focus, walking them through the police protocol for high profile prisoners.

“That's assuming they won't have changed it since you were in the force,” Leonard points out, trawling a finger sardonically along the construct. 

“Yes, Snart,” Renee levels him with an exhaustion-tinted glare and ruins the effect by lighting a cigar, which earns her a stronger glare from Barbara. Renee drops the lit cigar in Barbara’s coffee cup and continues on. “That’s assuming me and Babs have access to the most up to date protocol. If no one else has any objections?”

Snart scowls. He clearly hasn’t given up on the prison break plan and seems more than a little keen to impress the best places to “lob a little C4 and run for the sewers.” Everything about this plan is a risk, and Steph doesn’t exactly blame him for defaulting back to what he’s best at.

“In Central City, maybe,” Roy points out. “In Gotham that’d get you eaten by Killer Croc.”

“Eh, Croc’s not so bad,” Snart waves a hand dismissively, phasing it through the light construct. “We ran a job together a few years back, he owes me a couple favors. I’ll pass along a code word for you if I see him.”

“You do that,” Dinah nods, accepting the help for what it is. Then she glances over at her girlfriend.

Barbara nods once, sharp and decisive. Make the call.

Dinah calls the room to attention with a single high note. Steph clings to her place in the rafters so she doesn't fall directly into the center of the Clocktower, but it's a near thing.

“Sing it, pretty bird,” Oliver cheers. Dinah rolls her eyes slightly, but she doesn’t seem upset. She seems ready. 

“You have an open channel,” the Oracle says. Diana clasps the Canary’s hand in a raised fist. 

“It's decided. We’re going to hijack tomorrow morning’s press conference and give them a headline they can't spin and a fight they can’t look away from. Until then,I want as many capes on the streets as we can afford. One unbroken night of unified direct action.”

The heroes on the floor exchange glances. Many of them haven’t left Gotham yet — Steph realizes they were probably waiting to see the prison team off, expecting something like this. Others have, pulled away by the undeniable sound of cities in danger and the movement at risk there as well. But they should have just enough heroes to give Gotham one last night where it feels like the ‘whole damn League’ has come to help before going their scattered ways, leaving the city with just enough backup to keep their presence felt. 

Diana takes the floor, and Oracle pages her into the nationwide League comms. “Stay if you can, leave if you must, defend the just, fight for the truth, you are the Justice League and our hearts are with you, wherever you make your stand, be that with my Amazon sisters and I on the streets of Gotham tonight, with my sister Dinah at the gates of City Hall tomorrow morning, or in your own homes, your own streets, your own battles. We are the Justice League, and united we fight!”

Diana extends a hand to the other Amazons — Donna, Nubia, Cassie, and Etta join her at the Clocktower’s heart. They place their weapons on the ground, draw their hands together, and Diana drapes the golden lasso around their clasped fingers, so that Donna, Nubia, Cassie, Etta, and Diana herself each hold a piece of its perfection. 

“My sisters, I entreat you thusly in the name of our gods and our mission: to be just, to fight true, to extend a hand where you can and a sword where you must, do you accept this binding?” Diana intones.

“I do,” the Amazons answer as one. All of them, Etta included, seem to glow with blindingly ethereal light. It is the light of justice and wisdom. It is the light of Themyscira. They extend their arms outward so that the light bathes the Clocktower in peace and truth, blessing them for the battle ahead.

Steph feels the resulting surge of hope course through her veins, burning the Bat’s judgement out of her mind for the moment.

She grits her teeth, raises her Cat’s Shadow to the sky, and promises herself to keep believing.

It may not be possible to save their movement or this city. But the League was built on the promise of impossibility, and that means they have to try anyway. If anyone can save what Gotham's become, it's the Justice League.

Chapter Text

The central screen trades its headlines for the now-familiar map with its usual color-coded patrol routes, faded markers of Fearment drug hotspots, and new bolded ones for ongoing protests. Operator’s drone footage fills the surrounding screens, giving them a live visual of the hotspots. Oracle distinguishes them as best she can, marking out the violence caused by opportunists, Owls, and counter-movements from those tied directly to the Narrows Strong movement and directing the heroes accordingly. The Green Lanterns to the fires along the wharf, the Birds of Prey to the riots along Crime Alley; the remaining Titans to City Hall where a determined contingent of protestors are kettled together with attacking counterprotestors. 

The patrol teams flit in and out of the Tower as protest leaders pull black gear on over their clothes and continue unresolved arguments about long term strategy. Established heroes suit up and make attempts at usual pre-mission banter that don’t quite land this time, falling silent in the face of the city’s hurt. This isn't a usual mission – they're going to war for the Narrows tonight, and they all know it. 

So many people are going to be caught in the flames, and the heroes have to be ready to meet the movement in all its fragmented disarray and collateral damage. 

Some of this seems to have occurred to Roy Harper, who's arguing with Shoes in the corner.

“I'm the leader, Dad!” Shoes snaps, as if it's obvious. “I can't just leave my friends out there alone!”

Roy presses his hand to his face. He looks tired and out of his depth. “It's not safe.”

“It's never safe! It's Gotham! That means we have to keep each other safe,” Shoes explains. “Without the Loft, we won’t have anywhere to go. I have to find them, Dad.”

Steph shivers. She doesn’t like the idea of the Stray kids getting caught in the crossfire — they’ve already lost so much today. 

Roy sighs. “Okay. You've convinced me.”

“Really?” Shoes blinks up at him like they’d expected him to take more convincing.

“But I'm coming with you,” says Roy firmly. Steph releases a breath. “Let's go find your friends, kiddo.”

“Count me in for that as well,” says Holly, who Steph hadn't realized was still here. Selina’s already out on the prowl, intent on her vengeance, and Steph had assumed her partner would be at her side in that. Perhaps Selina needed to be alone. 

“I have an idea where they might’ve gone,” Holly continues. “They‘ll need all the protection they can get, it’s the quake all over again out there and we’re their best bet at surviving.”

Shoes beams. Steph relaxes a hair. It's good to know the Strays won't have to face the Gotham streets alone. 

“I’ve got a better idea,” Nightwing calls. They toss a set of keys to Roy. “Penthouse up on the Avenue. Find them, and you can all stay there for the night.”

“You sure?” Roy catches the keys easily. He turns them over in his hands, his tone serious.

“Sure as rain,” Dick grins. “Now go, before it turns full fallout out there.”

Roy nods. “Thanks, man.”

Dick gives him a two finger salute. Roy and Holly start out of the Clocktower.

“Wait a sec,” Ollie Queen calls. “I get the feeling there may not be another chance to say this, but I’m proud to call you both my family.”

He opens his arms to pull both Roy and then a reluctant Shoes into a shoulder clasping hug that makes Steph look away.

“Look, I'm not gonna tell you to go back to Star, Connor's a better Arrow than either of us will ever be.” Oliver’s booming voice echoes around the Clocktower, his mood seemingly undeterred by his looming prison stay. “But there's this kid Mia who's been staying at Sherwood and I think she could use an extra friend. Give her a call, that's all I'm saying.”

Roy nods. “Be safe, Ollie.”

“Where's the good in that?” Oliver ruffles Shoes’ hair. 

“I'll keep him on the up and up,” Guy Gardner claps Roy's shoulder. “Hal’d haunt me if I let his best man go it alone.”

“We'll be fine,” Dinah joins the conversation and the hug. “Worry about the streets.”

“The streets should be worried about us,” Shoes pulls their Cheshire Cat mask down over their face and flexes for emphasis. They look impossibly young. Improbably fierce. Intrinsically strong.

Shoes has never gotten the chance to be anything else. Maybe if they all survive this, that will change. Maybe they'll get to be a kid in light up sneakers and knockoff graphic tees, carefree and safe.

It's not a chance Steph ever had. She desperately wants this future for Shoes – for all of them.

“We'll go with you as far as 48th,” Onyx calls. She, Anarky, Jo, and Alysia seem to have determined the night's plans, or at least shelved the larger strategic questions for now.

Anarky pulls on their golden mask and hugs Miracle to their chest. 

“Raise my kinda hell,” Miracle tells them.

Anarky dips their masked head so it’s pressed against Miracle's green hair. “That's the plan.”

Miracle snuggles under their chin and taps the symbol on their chest. “Good plan.”

Then they limp over to join Frankie on the drone rig. Steph hears them asking. “Ever think about loading those with something other than cameras?” 

Alysia kisses Jo, hard and fast. “Let’s burn it down and rebuild together, baby!”

Jo laughs. “Marry me in the ashes, love.”

“You already proposed,” Alysia points out.

“I know,” Jo says. “I just wanted to be sure.”

“Loving you is the only thing I've ever been sure about,” Alysia promises, and kisses her again before pulling on a black knit mask that obscures her face completely.

“Ready, Fruitbat?” Jo adjusts her mask and holds out her hand. Alysia takes it gladly.

“If you're finished, the fight isn't going to wait,” Onyx calls. “Let's go!”

Kate Godwin zips up her black parka and joins the group, then beckons for Jefferson Pierce to join.

“And Anissa said I was getting too old for this,” Jefferson laughs, and pulls on his mask and gloves. “Tatsu and José are going to be sorry they missed out.”

He's smiling, but there's an undercurrent of worry in his tone – his friends aren't ‘missing out’ they're on the ground in Metropolis, fighting their own version of this same fight.

The remaining Rogues (Heatwave and Golden Glider) – minus Leonard Snart who's deep in conversation with the prison team and can't be pulled away – join them, ready to make their brand of trouble count. 

Steph hears Anarky starting up a new chant on the way out.

OINK OINK (PETIT PETIT)

OINK OINK (PETIT PETIT)

Everything in her aches to go with them.

***

Barbara holds court in the center of the room, directing, deploying, and assigning heroes; her range not limited by location or, it seems, by any known law. She's calling up people Stephanie's never heard of to join in the fight in their localities, heroes too small-scale or underground or morally dubious to have any sort of League standing, but who unequivocally say yes when the Oracle calls.

Barbara and Frankie are bent over the screens, headsets on and eyes narrowed. A quick glance reveals that Frankie is monitoring the protests with her drones, while Barbara traces the global impact of Luther’s ongoing disinformation campaign and checks in with the nationwide heroes via comms.

A headline they can't spin, Steph remembers. A fight they can’t look away from.

Every Gothamite in this room watched the quake get spun as a reason to label their city unsalvageable and then along with it. They watched Luthor call the Owls an overwhelmingly popular government despite the overwhelming turnout of the protests. They watched, over and over, as Gotham’s label of “the crime capital of America” became an excuse not to help the Narrows; or Crime Alley; or even the old Gotham Heights suburbs where Steph spent her middle school years with her mom and dad during a brief upswing of fortune – back before the city incorporated the Heights after the quake at which point they promptly fell into same state-enforced despair. 

To the rest of the world this could all get tied together and dismissed as typical Gotham street violence if they don't make it clear what's really happening on the ground, if they don’t make it impossible to look away.

Steph feels fury surge beneath her skin. They don't get to write us off like that. We won't let them.

The plan is good. But she’s not sure it’s going to be enough to hold back the tide of disinformation filling the screens faster than Oracle can counter it. She’s not sure what enough would even look like. It feels like those awful days after the quake, when all anyone could do was watch and fight as the city went to hell in their hands.

Steph rubs her aching wrist again and wishes she could help somehow, and in doing so silence the part of her brain that sounds like Batman’s blame and feels like her father’s hands. She makes eye contact with Barbara, who mouths ‘no’ before she has a chance to form the words.

Steph sighs. She approaches Barbara resolutely, intent on convincing her otherwise. Everything in her aches to do something, go somewhere, be someone. She can't let her girlfriends and her city fight alone. She watches the patrol markers multiply in silence for a few minutes, bouncing between her feet, before taking a deep breath and saying. “Babs, I—“”

“No,” says Barbara again, without looking up.

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say,” Steph argues.

“You were going to ask if you could patrol, despite not being medically cleared, which means my answer is no,” Barbara still doesn’t look up.

“It barely hurts anymore!” Steph holds up her wrist and tries not to winch at the movement. She’s not even really lying — besides, she can always take more midol – she's got a bottle of it in her bag and it works better for her than plain ibuprofen when it comes to injuries.

“No,” Barbara says again, wheeling around to glare at Steph over her wire-rimmed glasses.

“But—“ Steph tries one last time.

“Stephanie,” Barbara softens, and Steph lets herself hope for a moment. “You’re not going to change my mind, but if you need something to do I can find you a task here.”

“It’s not that,” Steph shakes her head, and hair from her barely-holding-on ponytail flops in her face. “It’s just…”

It's just that it's still too crowded in the Clocktower. There's not enough room for Steph's thoughts. She’d go home, except she can't go home, she hasn't been back there since her mom and it doesn't feel safe to try. 

She's not sure what else to do.

“You've given enough, Spoiler,” Barbara says. Her voice is kind. It shatters something deep in Steph, and she flees to the nearest corner to collect herself.

***

It's slow work, moving through the crowd of fighters preparing to head out. She keeps almost getting stopped by well-meaning hero types, and she just wants to find her girlfriends before they go.

Steph finally finds Rose and Cass waiting by one of the windows, geared up and ready for the night ahead. Cass is back in the mask that obscures her full face, the pointed domino from the protests discarded somewhere in the ruined camp. Rose is in full Ravager gear, Deathstroke colors and all.

Good, Steph thinks fiercely. It's time the Owls were as afraid of the things that lurk in the dark as they've made the people of Gotham.

Rose has Stephanie's sword at her waist. She reaches out to brush the hilt with her fingertips. Rose pulls her into a tight embrace and bites at her lips, tearing at Steph’s mouth with her sharp white teeth. It's a desperate, wanting, hungry kiss and when it stops both of their mouths are red with Steph’s blood. Rose grins, and flashes finger guns at Steph, who can't help rolling her eyes even as she blushes.

Then it's Cass’s turn. Cass kisses Steph like she's learning the shape of her mouth all over again, their lips moving together with frenzied sureness. She lingers on the bite marks from Rose’s teeth, exploring them with her tongue as her hands grasp at Steph's back.

They pull apart reluctantly.

“Take me with you,” Steph almost begs. “Please. I can't – I can't stay here alone, I–”

“Be here when we get back,” Cass interrupts. Her tone doesn't allow for argument. Steph takes a step back, a little hurt.

“What she said,” Rose says, giving her a look that says she knows where Steph's thoughts have been lately and doesn't approve.

Cass flashes a signed ‘I love you’ and Steph raises her hand back in a lover's salute that turns into a Cat's Shadow reflexively, Rose echoes both motions. Then the two of them disappear into the night.

Cass and Rose are gone and Nia is glued to the TV screen, dead to the world. Steph’s not sure how to begin trying to rouse her so she just presses a kiss to Nia’s unresponsive forehead and leaves her to her lonely grief.

Stephanie slips onto the balcony, where she sits at the very edge of the railing and tells herself she's only waiting for her girls to return from the war. She wants to dive after them, broken wrist and all.

She needs them to make it back safe.

***

Jean-Paul spots Steph lingering by the balcony and offers her a toast with his leftover milk tea. She rolls her eyes but accepts it and heads over to him. It’s all part of her goal to be the annoying younger sister he never had, and she's taking it very seriously. Besides, she does genuinely like him. He’s nice.

“About to head out?” She asks. She nudges his oversized bicep. In all honesty, she’s not in the mood to be annoying.

“I promised to defend the streets against all who would do harm. Tonight, that means those who claim to uphold the law. They have chosen to be unjust, and so they must face the wrath of Azrael.” He frowns, and adds softly. “And my abiding grief.”

“Mine too,” Steph admits. “The wrath and the grief. They killed my mom, they hurt my partner, they tried to kill me.”

“And yet you live,” Jean-Paul says.

“Yeah,” Steph thinks about Harper’s blood on her shirt and a blade that was meant for her. “I guess I do.”

Jean-Paul gives her a long, searching look. “I understand, Stephanie Brown.”

Stephanie gets an uncomfortable feeling that he does. 

And yet you live. Steph is alive. Her partners – Harper included – are alive.

Maybe they'll be okay. She wraps her arms around herself and stares out over the railing at the city on fire, searching for heroic shadows in the sky.

Maybe they'll all be okay.