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Bruce never talked about Jason. Not that he talked a lot to Stephanie in general, but she understood pretty early after their meeting that it was a touchy topic.
So during her first months working with the Bats, she started to know the second Robin through stories, mostly shared by Tim, or eventually Dick when he was there. She learned to grieve him, the boy she never knew but who had changed everything.
When she met him for the first time, though, he was a stranger. An enemy, even, who covered his face with a red helmet and his hands with blood of the same color.
She was patrolling around Crime Alley, despite Bruce having a clear rule to stay away from it (this man loved making his own trauma an issue for everyone else, but he was neither her father or her boss thank you very much), and had heard a gunshot that made her turn on her feet and slowly approach the docks. Unless Bruce and his little family, Stephanie had not grown up in a rich mansion miles away from any danger, and she knew gunshots were something you had to get used to in those types of places. No, what had piqued her attention was not the sound of the firearm itself, but what came after.
Someone was whistling.
The melody sounded oddly like it was sang by a machine, electronic and off-putting. Fuck, thought Stephanie, I’m gonna get killed by a happy psychotic robot. Letting the shadows cover her, she kept walking towards the obvious danger. Hey, nobody ever called her the voice of reason, or even remotely logical.
“Well well well, look who’s here” sing-sang the same robotic voice, way closer than Steph would have thought.
Oh fuck. She had not noticed the whistling stop, and now she was gonna die. Great thinking, Stephanie.
She turned slowly, facing her opponent who apparently was not made of iron and wires, but appeared to be‒
“Red Hood.”
He spread his arms in a dramatic gesture, and announced like he was a Shakespeare character. “This is he.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, both unable to really glare because of their covered eyes. Stephanie was tensed, waiting for him to make a move or at least scream at her for being in his so-called territory. He didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he let out a long sigh that crackled like he was a broken machine and leaned his shoulder against the wall.
“You know the rule, Blondie, no Bats in Crime Alley.”
“I’m not a Bat” she snarled.
He moved his head like he was raising an eyebrow at her, clearly not believing anything she said.
“I’m not!” she insisted with venom in her voice. “The old man made that very clear, trust me.”
Red Hood seemed to suddenly become more interested in the conversation. There was something in his demeanor that looked odd for a second, like Steph’s situation was bringing some of his personal issues to the surface. The weird feeling was gone in a blink of an eye, as the man’s shoulder got back against the wall.
“Doesn’t matter.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I still don’t want vigilantes sneaking their nose in my business, especially if they’ve got something to do with the big bat.”
Stephanie shook her head. “I maybe had something to do with the asshole yesterday, but he ain’t gonna hear about me anytime soon after what he said to me last night.”
Red Hood raised his eyebrows (or he seemed to do so?), and Steph stared back at him.
“Don’t look at me like you’re waiting for me to tell you my entire life story!” she said, and added under her breath. “I’m not that dumb.”
“Get away from here.” He didn’t sound angry, but Steph had enough common sense not to risk it. She started walking backwards, putting her hands in front of her in a mocking gesture.
“I’ll be back!” she shouted while grappling away to the closest roof.
“Don’t be, please.” Red Hood answered, clearly annoyed by her antics.
Stephanie let out a laugh and added, just to have the last word. “See you soon, Hood!”
The last thing she heard before going home was an electronic noise that sounded weirdly like a chuckle, followed by a muttered “oh my god, kids these days”.
For weeks after that encounter, Stephanie kept patrolling alone, not talking to any of the Bats. It felt like she was back to being a vigilante for the first time, going wherever she wanted to go, choosing when she wanted to patrol, but she had to admit it was not all good. In the short amount of time she had spent working with Bruce, Tim, and even Dick, she had grown used to someone having her back. It took her a couple of days to understand that, if she wanted to keep herself safe, she could not keep pulling punches the way she did when she was with them, and if more criminals ended up with a busted face after she failed a test or got in a fight with her mom, well… No one had to know, right?
That is how Red Hood found her, bringing her fists over and over again on the face of a man who had gotten a little too close to a blonde girl who clearly wanted him to leave her alone. Steph had planned to distract the man just enough time for the girl to get away, but she was on him before he finished his first sentence (it did not help that the sentence contained the words slut and clothes).
“Spoiler.”
She startled at the use of her name, and almost got whiplash from how fast she turned her head after recognizing the crime lord’s voice. He looked much more serious than the last time they met, looking down at her with his arms crossed over his chest.
Steph stood up, still shaking from the adrenaline of the (mostly one-sided) fight.
“What are you doing?”
Oh, she hated how patronizing he sounded. Still, not wanting too much trouble, she gave a kick to the unmoving form at her feet. “Fuckin’ rapist. I wouldn’t be mad if you killed him.”
Red Hood didn’t move. “Looks like you were already halfway through.”
To her surprise, it sounded like a reproach. Who the fuck was he to tell her not to be violent? She didn’t know how many people he had killed, but she would be surprised if she could count it with the fingers of one hand (even if she used both her hands and her toes, actually, but‒ not the topic, she was getting distracted).
Instead of saying any of that, she agreed. “Yeah, well it’s not like I have a gun to finish the job quickly and efficiently.” Like you do was left unsaid, but she knew he heard it too.
When he got his gun out and loaded it, Stephanie didn’t flinch. She just stepped aside and watched as a bullet flew right into the rapist’s skull. Good riddance.
“Thanks.”
Red Hood turned to her, and she couldn’t figure out what his attitude meant. It seemed just… blank.
“Don’t thank me for that, kid.” and he took off.
That could have meant don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help, but Steph knew better. He was angry. Angry at her for needing his help (though she didn’t really need it)? Angry at himself for killing a man (doubtful)? Angry at the man for being a jerk? She had no idea, but he was angry.
When she got home that night, Spoiler did not sleep. She laid in her bed, eyes open, thinking. She thought about Red Hood, the fact he had killed someone tonight because she had asked him to, how he almost looked worried about her (she let out a laugh at that though, because really how the fuck could she have imagined that). She thought about Bruce, how angry he was at her. The worst thing was that she understood. How could he be nice to her when she was a mess, who kept putting people in danger, making mistakes, never following orders?
He was probably better off without her, but that did not mean she was ready to ride solo. She was proud of how far she’d come, she got good at fighting and could attack people twice her size with pretty elevated winning odds. The issue was the weapons, she decided after a whole lot of thinking.
The thugs Steph fought had, at the very least, knives, and most of them had guns. And here she was with a fucking stick and a few smoke bombs she stole from the Batcave after her last fight with Bruce.
Not that she wanted to kill people, but she needed to get a gun.
She started smiling as a plan formed in her mind. Guess she would spend her next patrol trying to find Gotham’s newest crime lord.
She had been sitting on a Crime Alley rooftop for what felt like an eternity (five minutes) when she heard the familiar sound of boots landing on the ground. She didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind her.
“How’s it going Hood?”
He sat next to her. “Business is good, but there’s this teenage vigilante who keeps interrupting my nights and I don’t know what do to get rid of her.”
There was a smile in his voice, and Steph knew better than to take everything thugs said at heart, but a part of her still felt defeated. Of course he wants me gone, everyone does.
She didn’t let it get to her, and turned to him. “I don’t think it’s gonna be easy, if she wants something real bad she ain’t gonna leave.”
“What do you want?”
Steph looked at the street below them. “A gun.”
There was a silence, where the both of them stopped breathing, like the moment of realization before an explosion. In this case, the explosion didn’t go “boom” but “are you fucking kidding me?”
Taking in Stephanie’s lack of answer, he kept going. “You go to a crime lord, who literally kills people for a living, and ask him for a gun? We’ve met twice, you don’t even know who I am! Don’t tell me you think this is a good idea.”
“Sure, if you put it like that” she muttered.
“There’s no other way to put it, kid!” he almost shouted, his helmet making him sound slightly terrifying.
“I just want you to teach me, okay? Maybe you wouldn’t give a shit if I died because my only weapon is a fucking stick, but‒ I don’t know, I could help you if I had a gun, right?”
“I am not teaching you how to use a gun.”
Stephanie sighed. “Fuck you.”
In a second, she was gone, having jumped off the roof in true Nightwing fashion.
The next time she went to Crime Alley didn’t go very well. Okay, fine, it went horribly wrong. She just didn’t think this drug dealer would have had a dozen men waiting for his signal to get out of the shadows! Once again, her lack of planning got back at her, and here she was, fighting five armed men at the same time.
What a nice way to spend a Tuesday night.
She knocked one down with a brick she found on the ground (god, she loved bricks), and made another one fell on the ground with her only real weapon. Two down, three to go.
The last men, knives in their hands, slowly walked toward her and she started backing up, but her back hit a wall. Oh, fuck.
Was that how she was gonna die? Alone, backed into a dark corner of Crime Alley by three junkies? That sucks, it’s not even heroic.
Okay, she had to run. Or climb, or whatever was possible to get out of here. Her instincts kicked in, and she grabbed the hand of the man who was closest to her, forcing him to stab himself. Ew. Taking advantage of the distraction, she started to run away but felt a hand gripping her arm, forcing her to stop.
If they thought she was gonna go down without a fight, they were wrong. She kicked the guy behind her blindly, just trying to make him let go of her. It didn’t work but he was clearly not having a good time. Good, that makes two of us!
The other guy, who had no right being that tall, tried to grab her chin, but she used First Guy’s hold on her as leverage and threw her feet in the air. She let out a satisfied sound when her kick landed and Giant Guy fell on the floor, victim of the Stephanie Brown special.
A flash of white hot pain suddenly shot through her entire body, making her gasp for air. She used the last of her adrenaline to kick First Guy off of her, and started running.
Her thoughts were caught in a litany of it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, and before she knew it she was laying against the dirty wall of a dark, desert street, hoping she got out of Crime Alley. She still had a knife sticking out of her stomach.
When she regained consciousness, she was being carried by someone who appeared to be running. She just had the time to think this can’t be good before she passed out again.
A hand was running through her hair. She was five again, laying on the couch, her mother comforting her after a bad fight with her d‒ with Arthur.
“Mom…”
Someone who was clearly not her mom let out a chuckle.
“Certainly not your mom, Blondie.”
She just wanted to fall back asleep, but Not-her-mom kept talking. “You’ve been stabbed, you’re in one of my safehouse right now but don’t take that for granted. I won’t always be here to save your sorry ass.”
Stephanie’s mind was blurry, and she couldn’t open her eyes. What was happening again? She remembered thinking something about her mom, and she was apparently laying on a couch with someone taking care of her.
“You’re my mom though,” she mumbled. “Y’re s’pposed to take care of me.”
“Am I?” her mom (not-her-mom?) asked. “I thought it was only until you’re eighteen.”
“’m sixteen!” she protested weakly.
“You’re what?” All trace of humor was gone from the voice. Shit, she fucked up. Again.
The-voice-who-was-half-her-mom-but-she-didn’t-know-because-the-situation-was-weird talked again, quietly, probably to themselves.
“Fuck, B, always bringing children into your fights aren’t you? Look where it gets them. In the safehouse of a crime lord with a fucking stab wound. One failure wasn’t enough, is tha‒”
Steph fell back asleep.
The third time she woke up, her mind seemed to have cleared a little bit. Finally, she opened her eyes and took note of her surroundings.
She was laying on a mattress that was right on the floor, in a small room that was surprisingly tidy. There were a few books on a shelf, a first-aid kit open next to her head, and a plastic table of a very ugly yellow in the corner. There was a door in front of her, probably the main door based on the muddy footsteps around it. Stretching her head in an uncomfortable position, she noticed two doors on the opposite wall. Maybe the bathroom and…?
The door opened. It was a kitchen.
“Hey there, it’s your mama.”
She squinted at the man standing above her, a cup of tea in his hands. He did look very maternal, in a way a lioness looked maternal when she was protecting her babies. Wait‒
“Red Hood?”
Oh, this was really bad. Why in hell was she with him without any memory of how she got here? She had to get up and run away immediately.
“You got stabbed”, he said at the same time her not-healed stab wound screamed you got stabbed.
Red Hood sat next to the mattress, leaving enough place between them that she didn’t feel too threatened, and put the cup of tea on the floor next to her.
“I found you passed out against a wall with a knife in your guts. I brought you here and stitched you up while you were asleep.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
He gave her a ‘are you for real?’ face, and Stephanie saw for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his helmet. It would have been a nice show of trust if Mr. Drama Queen wasn’t wearing a mask under it (seriously, why was his secret identity so… secret?).
“Anyway, doesn’t matter, I have to go.”
Before she knew it, Red Hood was pinning her on the mattress with his hand on her shoulder. She tried to fight back, but the pain in her guts seemed to be in a divorce lawsuit with her survival instincts, and she fell back with a grunt.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t want you to get hurt more than you already are, okay?” he said. “So please don’t try to run away while your wound just started healing.”
Stephanie frowned as he got back to his previous position, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She mirrored his movements and sat on the mattress. “Why are you doing that?”
He didn’t answer, but his face seemed to fall, and Steph wondered how old he was. She had always seen him with his helmet on and had assumed he was a grown adult, but right now he looked young. Like he didn’t belong there any more than she did, even with the scars covering every inch of skin she could see. And his voice was a perfect balance between soft and fierce, like he was stuck between childhood and adulthood, a teenager who didn’t stay a kid but didn’t get to completely grow up either.
“By the way, I had to cut your clothes around your wound, sorry about that.”
Nice change of topic.
“Eh don’t worry, at least you knowing my secret identity won’t compromise the others.” There were good things about not being close to your coworkers.
“What?” Red Hood frowned, confused. “Why would I know your identity?”
“I mean… you must’ve seen me when you took off my mask, right?”
“Spoiler.” He paused, looking at her like he was staring right into her soul. “I didn’t take off your mask.”
What?
“You have trust issues, don’t you?” he added, raising his eyebrows.
She stared at him.
“Blondie, all I know about you is that you’re sixteen and that the old man was a dick to y‒ why are you smiling like you just figured out how to kill me?”
He looked at her suspiciously as her smile grew wider.
“You know what could really help me not getting stabbed again?
“Jeez, this conversation is giving me whiplash” he muttered under his breath, and then spoke directly to Steph. “What?”
Instead of answering, she kept eyes contact as she slowly raised her hands and did finger guns at him. “Pew pew,” she said while trying her hardest not to laugh.
Red Hood’s face grew into disbelief. “Did you just do finger guns at me?”
Stephanie burst out laughing. “Oh my god,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “You should see your face, it’s priceless.” She broke into a fit of giggles again, the tension of the last days slowly lifting from her shoulders.
After a few seconds of her giggling alone, she noticed Hood’s shoulders were starting to shake and, soon enough, they were both laughing heartily.
Steph’s stomach was hurting but she couldn’t care less, way too relieved to be finally laughing with someone. How long had it been since something like that happened? She didn’t even know, but she had a feeling it was an even more foreign concept to Hood.
Two minutes later, there were tears on her cheeks and he was trying to catch his breath, his hand in front of his mouth to hide the smile she knew was here.
“I don’t even know why we’re laughing.” There was a pause before the admission sent them both into a fit of laughter.
They had gotten closer as they laughed, and now Steph was bent over, supporting herself on his knee as he pinched the bridge of his nose to try to regain composure. It didn’t work.
When they sobered up, the tea was cold and they had completely forgotten about the last conversation.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked between two sips of the beverage.
Hood made a noise of authorization that could only be written as “mmh?”, so Steph took the opportunity.
“Red Hood’s a nice name and all, but I’m getting tired of calling you Red Hood to the voices. I mean, it’s long and it sounds a little weird when I say it too much.”
“The voices?”
Steph nodded slowly with a smile on her lips, pointing at her head. “The voices.”
He stared at her in a way that would have made her giggled again if she didn’t have an important question to ask.
“Is there any other name I could call you? I’m not asking for you real name or anything, just something less weird than ‘Red Hood’, you know?”
He bit his lip, thinking.
“Do we agree that it absolutely doesn’t make us friends?”
She nodded quietly.
“Then, I guess you can call me Jay. Except if we’re surrounded by criminals who want us dead, of course.”
She smiled brightly. He had mentioned the possibility of them seeing each other again, which was totally a win. She probably should not be happy about a crime lord telling her about the both of them being in grave danger, but hey everyone had their own idea of fun!
They spent a few minutes in silence, Steph sipping her tea and Jay zoning out while looking at the floor.
“I’m not gonna give you a gun, but I don’t want something like that to happen again.”
She turned her head towards him, surprised by the sudden declaration.
“The best for you would be to stop doing that, of course. Find something else that can make you happy.”
Bruce was screaming at her after a complicated patrol, asking her to stop being a vigilante because ‘oh she was so bad at it, she did more wrong than right, she didn’t deserve to work with them’. The memory slapped her in the face, and she saw red.
“Really?” she shouted. “You’re trying to bench me? I understand that you feel like I owe you something, but that doesn’t mean you’re suddenly my boss. I’m making my own choices here, and you can’t stop me from doing that. Except if you kill me of course, which I would accept more easily than whatever it is you’re trying to do right now.”
“No, that’s not what I meant!”
She stopped. He had talked loudly, but he sounded almost vulnerable, unlike anything she had heard during her fights with Bruce.
Jay spoke again, softer. “I’m not asking you to stop. I would love it if you did that, because you’d be much safer and I don’t want any other children getting hurt because of Br‒ Batman. But I’m starting to know you, and I don’t think I’m in a position to ask that of you. If you’re happier being a vigilante, I can’t stop you and I won’t try to.”
“Then what are you saying?” Her voice broke a little bit and she cleared her throat to regain her composure.
“I’m saying that maybe I can help you. We’re not gonna be friends, but I could train you a couple times if you’re interested.”
Stephanie thought about it. She knew that, technically, she had to refuse, she couldn’t agree to be trained by a crime lord who killed people for a living (his words, not hers). But, if Stephanie Brown had a motto, it would probably be YOLO. She offered her fist to Jay and said. “Deal.”
When they gave each other a fist bump, she knew she had made the right choice.
Fuck, I did not make the right choice. It was a few weeks later, Stephanie’s wound had mostly healed and Jay had finally accepted to start training her. She was currently standing in an other one of his safehouses, hitting a punching ball as hard as she could.
“Come on, Steph! You couldn’t hurt a five year-old with those punches!”
Ah, yes, an other development, she had taken off her mask and had asked Jay to call her Steph (when they were in private).
“Dude, why on Earth would I want to hurt a five year-old?”
He rolled his eyes and ignored her, instead choosing to bully her into hitting harder.
They trained almost every days for weeks and, during that time, most of Stephanie’s bruises and cuts were not from patrolling. He taught her how to fight with a knife, showing her the difference between attack and defense; spent several days putting her in weird situations where she had no weapon and could only use what was surrounding her; taught her how to use her fighting stick if she really wanted to hurt someone… So many things Bruce had never wanted her to know.
They fell into an odd routine, where they started patrolling with their own path and met on the same rooftop every night. They also had an unspoken agreement: every time Stephanie finished learning about a weapon, meaning that she could fight with it easily enough, Jay gave one of his to her. So far, she had added brass knuckles, two types of knives, and nunchucks to her utility belt.
“Jay?”
They were sitting against a wall after a training session, both out of breath. Steph was completely out of costume, choosing to train with simple sport clothes, but Jay never put off his mask, apparently not trusting her enough. She didn’t mind.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think we could patrol together one day?”
He frowned, and shook his head. “We don’t do the same thing, kid. I’m a criminal and you’re a vigilante, this can’t work.”
“You sound so cliché right now” she chuckled.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, both lost in thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking about patrolling with Robin again,” Steph whispered like it was a secret.
“Really?” He almost sounded sad, disappointed. “Wanna go running back to the big bat?”
Hurrah, Mr. Patronizing was back. Nobody missed his fucking ass.
“I see you as my friend, Jay, but you have no right talking to me like that,” she said coldly. “You know I always make my own choices, you have no say in this.”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“I wanted your advice, okay?” The conversation had shifted into an argument. “Not your judgment.”
“Well forgive me if I don’t want you getting killed because Batman just loves putting children in the line of fire,” he shouted back at her.
“Why do you keep bringing that up, anyway? What’s the deal with you two?”
His voice hardened. “Get out of here.”
“Gladly,” she snarled at him before getting up and gathering her things.
The day after the fight, Steph asked Tim to meet up at her apartment, and he immediately accepted. That was one of her favorite part of her friendship with him. They could be fighting, ignoring each other, or on different sides of an argument, they were always here for each other.
She was currently sitting on her bed, her head on his shoulder, trying to find a way to bring up the subject.
In the end, she did what she did best: blurting things out and dealing with the consequences later.
“I think I’m ready to patrol with you again, if it’s okay.”
Tim turned to her and, after a little shuffling, they ended up sitting cross-legged face to face, just like during her first real conversation with Jay.
“Of course!” And, oh, he sounded so happy. Stephanie tended to forget that some people cared about her. “I’m sure Bruce will be glad to hear it.”
No‒ not Bruce, he was gonna be disappointed in her again, he always was, she couldn’t do that, not with him, please no.
Tim must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he added. “You don’t want to tell him?”
“I’d rather not, please,” she answered with a dry chuckle.
“Okay,” he nodded.
“Okay?”
He smiled and looked straight in her eyes. “Okay.”
Stephanie sometimes hated him, but right now she was oh so grateful for Tim Drake.
They spent the next hour talking, planning what they were going to do for their next patrol in common.
She was excited to do this with him again, but part of her knew something‒ someone, was missing. The thought was gone as soon as it appeared, though, because why would she think something like that? It’s not like he had ever been part of the weird extended family that was Gotham’s vigilantes.
And, like everything in Stephanie Brown’s life, her first patrol back with Tim turned into a nightmare less than an hour after it started.
The beginning was good. They had managed to avoid Bruce, grappled from roofs to roofs while talking and laughing, stopped a small robbery and a fight. Robin didn’t ask her about the new weapons she had in her utility belt, nor about her new way of fighting.
They started hearing gunshots as they approached Crime Alley (what a surprise), and everything went downhill from there. One of the detonation was followed by a broken scream, and the air got knocked off Steph’s lungs when she recognized the robotic voice.
“Jay!” she shouted as loud as she could, already running toward where she heard her friend.
She vaguely heard Tim calling after her, asking what the hell she was doing, but she ignored him and kept going. Jay was in danger, he was hurt. Fuck, if they hadn’t fought last night he would’ve been training her in a safehouse right now. If only she could have kept her mouth shut.
She finally arrived to the scene, which looked empty except for a dark silhouette laid on the floor a few feet away from her. She went to him immediately and started inspecting the damage. He had a few bruises and cuts, but nothing too serious on his face. However, the growing red stain under his ribs explained why he was moaning like a wounded animal, small sounds that made her heart break coming from someone who always acted so strong.
Her senses clouded by the panic rising in her chest, she didn’t notice someone approaching behind her until arms wrapped around her waist and forced her to get to her feet.
“That’s Red Hood, Spoiler!” Tim whisper-shouted. “What are you doing?”
“Let go of me!” Using a trick Jay had taught her, she broke free and fell back to her knees.
“Jay, you need to wake up for me, okay?” She took his helmet in her hands and opened it like he taught her to, quickly putting it away to reveal Jay’s almost unnatural paleness accentuated by his black mask. “Everything’s gonna be fine but you have to open your eyes.”
She registered that Tim was moving, probably not wanting to be in Crime Alley any longer. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.
Was it raining? She felt the coldness of raindrops falling on her cheeks, and understood that she was quietly sobbing, tears falling where her hands held onto Jay’s face. There were more things happening around her, but she felt numb.
Suddenly, Bruce was there, crouching in front of her, searching for her eyes.
“Spoiler, why are you crying?” he asked, his voice full of confusion.
“He’s my friend, you need to save him, please.”
She wanted to stay awake, wanted to be with Jay and knew he was okay, but next thing she knew she was being held by a silhouette in a black and blue suit and the exhaustion of the last days caught up to her in a few seconds.
When she opened her eyes again, she had no idea where she was. It was starting to become a habit.
“Hello, Stephanie,” said a comforting voice somewhere above her.
God?
“It’s Leslie, I didn’t know ‘God’ was one of my nickname,” the woman chuckled.
Oh, right. They had dropped her off at Leslie’s when‒
Steph sat up way too quickly. “Where’s Jay?”
“He’s fine, don’t worry. Bruce dropped him off last night and I took care of him.”
“Can I see him?” Without waiting for an answer, thoughts piling up in her head, she added. “Oh my God they didn’t even stay? They just left as soon as they could, right?”
Leslie sighed. “I asked them to, so I could work on healing your friend without having to care for three other anxious boys. Tim was particularly hard to shoo away but he ended up following his broth‒ Dick’s lead.”
It was hard to believe. Steph wasn’t even hurt, why would they want to stay by her side?
“You need to eat,” Leslie said as she gave a sandwich and a glass of water to Steph. “When you arrived yesterday you were in severe dehydration, and I think it’s safe to assume you haven’t slept much recently.”
The pointed look she gave Steph was enough to make her shamefully avoid her gaze, and she started eating without saying a word.
“I’m gonna go check on your friend,” Leslie informed. “If you drank enough water and ate enough of the sandwich when I come back, I’ll allow you to see him.”
She nodded quickly. Damn doctors, always manipulating their patients.
Three minutes and seventeen seconds later (yes, she had kept her eyes on the clock), Stephanie had eaten and drunk everything Leslie had given her and the doctor came back.
Steph immediately turned to her, showing her the sandwich’s wrapper and empty glass with a proud smile. “I did it!”
Leslie smiled back at her and helped her standing up, not that she needed it (she did). They made their way slowly through the corridor, finally arriving to the closed door.
The doctor checked one last time with Steph to be sure she was ready, and let her enter, telling her she would be in her office if she needed help.
Jay was here, laying on a bed, the cover letting half of a bandage show on his chest. He smiled at her, exhaustion clear on his still-covered eyes, probably high on pain-killers.
She sat in the chair next to his bed and let him rest in silence for some time, minutes stretching out as she zoned out and let her head fall on her shoulder.
“Steph?” His voice sounded rough, unusual when she knew how soft he could sound without his helmet.
She turned to him, meeting his gaze where it was already on her. “Yeah?”
“You saved my life.”
She looked at him, slowly inspecting the way his face fell. “You’re mad at me,” she answered softly.
“I am. You put yourself in danger for someone you never even saw without a mask. You have to stop doing that.”
“I can’t make that promise, and you know that,” she smiled sadly.
“Then stop going near Crime Alley, it’s too dangerous.”
Her face hardened. What was it with men and wanting to control her at all costs? She wasn’t a terrified little girl anymore, for fuck’s sake.
“Steph,” he called. “This is not me wanting to be your boss, it’s me wanting you to be safe. Can you understand that?”
She couldn’t. “How is that any of your business?”
“You keep getting into dangerous situations because of me, of course it’s my fucking business,” he snapped at her.
“Oh so you’re just the same as B, aren’t you?” she snarled. “You don’t want to have my death on your conscience? In fact, you’d be happier if you didn’t have to take care of me because I’m such a burden, right?”
His eyes widened, and he did the last thing she expected him to do. He put off his mask.
His eyes were green, she noticed, but their color was changing and, a few seconds later, they were almost blue. It was fascinating but she had to admit she was pissed that she didn’t recognize him.
There was something familiar about him, she just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“I don’t want you to storm off after a fight like you did last time,” he said quietly. “It could’ve been the last conversation we ever had.”
She nodded. “Okay. Goodbye, then. Know that I’m not mad at you, I’m just happy you’re alive.”
“Thank you.” His smile morphed into something sarcastic, the little glint in those eyes she was learning to know probably meaning he was going to say something stupid. “See you soon, Blondie.”
Damn, such a bitchy move of him to return back at Steph the words she had said when they first met. She shook her head and rolled her eyes with a smile. “Oh my God, kids these days.”
When they separated, the two teenagers (because that is what they were, first and always) were smiling. And if Leslie got out of her office to find both rooms empty, well, she wasn’t surprised. She did take care of Gotham’s worst medical patients on a daily basis, after all.
When Stephanie spoke to Bruce again, it was a surprisingly soft conversation where he obviously made some efforts to understand her. Maybe there was a first time for everything!
They had to bargain for a long time, but he accepted that she patrolled with them again, on the condition that she took a few days to rest before. Steph promised to try following orders more, if (and only if) Bruce explained his plans more thoroughly to her and accepted to hear her ideas. They didn’t talk about Jay.
The first few patrols back were complicated, with Bruce definitely not appreciating Steph’s new weapons and offensive strategies, but he ended up admitting she had become better during the time she spent away from them.
They fell into a similar routine than before everything (before Jay), with the difference that Steph finally felt respected, useful, and part of a team. She missed her favorite crime lord, of course, but it’s not like she could talk about it with anyone.
So when she saw a red helmet on a roof not too far from Crime Alley, she couldn’t help but shout “Hood!” (after making sure he was not on a stakeout, duh, she still cared a little bit about her life).
He turned to her and she recognized by the position of his shoulders that he was smiling (yes, she could do that now). “Blondie!”
She felt Robin and Batman arriving behind her and saw Jay’s shoulder tensing, clearly not wanting to see them.
Despite the tension that seemed to compress the air all around them, Steph waved at him with a bright smile and started going toward him. “What’s up?”
He didn’t answer and kept his gaze trained on the two silhouettes she knew were behind her. “What are the bodyguards for?”
She sighed. “Look, I’m sorry that I can’t go see you alone but you specifically asked for it so…”
“Nothing against you, Steph.” His eyes finally met hers. “I’d rather just not see those two.”
They just had the time to fist bump each other before Jay was gone, not even looking back.
She was still staring at the empty place where he had stood a few seconds ago when Batman and Robin landed next to her.
“What the hell was that?” Bruce asked with his reproach/confusion voice.
Not in the mood to talk, she offered a smile she knew he couldn’t see and grappled away, following their patrol path.
They still didn’t talk about Jay.
When she saw him again, he had somehow gotten into a fight with Batman himself. Ugh, men.
Tim and her were following the sound of an unfriendly discussion, and Bruce and Jay were here, both in full costume, slowly circling each other with their weapon in hands. Steph was ready to jump in (to stop the fight or take part in it, she didn’t know), but Tim stopped her and gave her a supplying look that probably meant ‘please stay in the shadows, don’t put yourself in danger again to save men twice your size’. She obeyed, not without answering with a look that meant ‘fuck you man’. She hoped he got the message.
“You never get enough of taking in children to make them soldiers, don’t you?” Jay shouted, his demeanor showing a barely contained rage.
Even from this far away, Steph could see Bruce’s breath catch in his throat. He stayed silent, so the other kept going.
“One dead kid wasn’t enough for you? No, you had to replace him immediately, putting other innocents in the line of fire.”
She was something in Bruce snap, and his voice was cold when he talked again. “Don’t talk about him. You have no right.”
“Really?” Jay screamed back at him, clearly on the verge of using physical violence.
“Why do you even care?”
Stephanie had seen Bruce angry before. Angry at her, at himself, at thugs sometimes. But that was the first time she heard him sound like that, crying out like a part of his very soul was broken.
She saw Jay flinch, and his body slumped like he accepted his defeat. Instead of dropping his gun, though, he used his free hand to put off his helmet, letting it fall on the floor with a loud noise that resonated in the empty street below. From where she was Steph couldn’t see his face, but she knew from experience that he still had his mask on, almost never taking it off.
He raised his hand to his face once again. Was it happening? Was he trusting Bruce with his identity less than a week after he did the same with Steph?
Part of her knew that she had no right to make that about her, because there was clearly something between Bruce and Jay that only belonged to them. Maybe Bruce would react the same way Steph did, not recognizing Red Hood at all, but she had a feeling something else, and something big, was about to happen.
The mask fell on the floor.
Bruce’s face turned completely blank, before twisting in a grimace of pain, eyes wide under his cowl and mouth open to inhale as much air as he could.
“Jason?” he whispered, so softly that Stephanie almost didn’t hear him.
No. It couldn’t be. Jay, the dead son? The soldier gone too soon that they never talked about? That just didn’t make sense.
Except… it did. It made almost too much sense. It explained why he didn’t want any of the Bats close to his territory, why he held a grudge against Batman, why he seemed to be more interested in Steph once she told him about her fights with Bruce, how he anticipated so easily the tricks Batman had taught her when they trained together. Of course he did, he was taught the same things, years ago, before he was killed by the Joker.
It also explained the feeling of familiarity she had had when he took of his mask. She had recognized him from the pictures hanging everywhere in the Manor, bittersweet memories of a time Bruce grieved more than his son himself.
Tim must have made a sound, because both Bruce and Jay (Jason) turned to them, clearly surprised to see the two teenagers watching from the shadows.
Steph didn’t know what to do but Tim seemed to make the decision for her as he lunched forward, landing on his feet next to Bruce. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and the height difference almost made her snicker. It looked like David was trying to comfort Goliath.
She looked at Jay‒ Jason. His gaze was still on her but his mind seemed far away, like he had played his part and had gone back to the wings.
A second later, she was standing in front of him, gripping his arms to try to make him come down to Earth. She held his gaze as long as she could while it slowly focused on her, but had to turn her head away at some point.
She made eye contact with Tim, and it should have felt like they were taking different sides of an argument. Only it didn’t. They were just trying to be there for their family.