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Stephanie's boots were quiet on the gravel on the roof. She had taught herself how to be silent even on the loudest of surfaces; dust from Gotham's last explosion worn down by wind and rain wasn't going to get the better of her, not anymore.
Carefully, she lowered herself so she was sitting on the edge of the building, legs dangling off the side. She found herself staring out at the lights of Gotham, breathing in the smoke of her pulsing heart and basking in the knife-sharp wind. Down the block there were some high school kids laughing over something no doubt stupid, and she could hear gunshots in the distance, echoing from Crime Alley. The city was alive as it ever was, pulsing with all the feelings of its people.
Steph thumbed over a crack in the building's cement. It was a city of resilience, to be certain; none stayed long if they lacked the strength the city needs. But she's watched it grow from a city of the abandoned, an island of islands, to the community she always dreamed it could be, connected by webs built from grit and ice and grime. She is proud of her city and all within it, and she has been for quite some time.
"I haven't seen you here in a while."
Steph didn't startle or even bother to turn. A smile graced her lips and she dipped her head backwards, kicking her legs out. "You're losing your touch, old man. I knew you'd come."
Bruce just let out a soft hum, and after a moment he sat beside her. It was in moments like this when Stephanie remembered that the years had taken their toll on him just as much, if not more, as they had on her. His shoulders were slumped forward even as he kept his back straight, and his knee popped as he arranged himself to sit on the building's edge. It was a lucky thing, to be able to age in their profession. Most of them didn't count on it.
"I stopped my first robbery here, you know," Steph said, filling the silence that Bruce left for her. He was a good listener, even if he never knew how to respond; it was why she put up with him at all, after all these years. Even if he wasn't always the best at showing it, they knew he listened. They knew he cared. "It was just a couple of kids. I think one of them had gotten tangled up with the Falcone's by accident, but I wasn't exactly keeping tabs at that point. I went home with a dislocated thumb and bruised knuckles, but it was the most powerful I had ever felt." She chuckled to herself, looking down at the alleyway she sat on as she kicked a foot out. "I'll never forget the face of the kid I'd spared. He looked starstruck, y'know? Like an angel had dropped out of the sky. I think that's what kept me going in the long run. Not the adrenaline—you can get that from more than crime fighting. But the look someone gives you when you save them…"
She was rambling, but she knew Bruce didn't mind. She hadn't been his Robin for very long, but she had still worn the colors and watched Tim thrive in them long enough to know that he liked it when they filled the silence on quiet nights like this. They saw it in the tenseness of his jaw and the grip on his grapple; his companions were living, breathing reminders of Gotham's good, even on the worst nights.
"I was worried about you when you started," Bruce said. That alone wasn't a revalation—he said it enough times then, certainly—but when Steph glanced at his face she knew that he was going to tell her something he hadn't admitted before, maybe not even to himself. "You were… angry, in a way I didn't know what you would do with. Jason as a good kid under all the defense, and that was clear as day to see. But you… you took your frustration and pain and honed it. It became your weapon." Bruce looked down at his hands, huffing a slight laugh. "You scared me, because when I looked at you I saw an uncanny reflection of me."
Steph huffed. "I thought Tim got the title of mini-you."
Bruce shook his head. "Names. Red Robin is similar to the man I am now; he's perhaps who I could have become, if things had been different. But Red Robin is stronger than I am when it comes to his mind, to his morals. His compass isn't faulty. Not like mine.
"You're a good person, Spoiler," Bruce continued, and there was a finality in his tone that she didn't bother trying to argue with. Her name carried a weight it didn't used to. "I know that now. And maybe I could have known it then, too, if I was… better to you. But when I looked at you, I saw the same look I had in my eyes as a kid." He shook his head. "I didn't know what to do with you. Nightwing wanted vengeance against one man; the first Batgirl wanted to help reduce crime in whatever ways she could and got impatient waiting for the system to fix itself. Hood wanted to protect the kids like himself. Red wanted to protect me from myself."
"But I didn't know what I wanted," Steph said, "and so you couldn't either. And so you thought it would be better if I just… retired. Lived a normal life."
"I did."
Stephanie snorted. "That was never yours to decide."
"It wasn't." There was something sad in Bruce's words. Steph rolled her eyes.
"It's not like you succeeded," Steph said. "I was hooked before I spoke to you the first time." She looked out to the cityscape again, at the flickering lights and towering buildings. "I did a lot of damage. To me, to you, to the city. I wasn't the best Gotham had to offer. I knew that. I always knew that." She kicked her feet again. "My goal wasn't to be the best. My goal wasn't to save the city. At first, I just wanted to prove to my dad that I didn't need him. That I could be better than him."
Bruce made a fond little sound at that. "You've made a fine hero, Spoiler."
"I have," Steph agreed. "No thanks to you." Bruce laughed. "But when I was in Africa I realized that I didn't care about proving anything to anyone anymore. I didn't need to earn my spot in Gotham's vigilantes; I didn't need to prove to Cluemaster that he sucked. Because that wasn't what mattered." Steph shook her head. "I would've called myself stupid, back when I started. To think I'm doing this because I want to save people. Because I believe a better future is possible. It sounds like something out of a cheap Marvel spin-off."
There was a hand on her shoulder. Steph turned to face Bruce, and even though he was still in the cowl, she could tell that the look he was giving her was soft. "You were always a hero," he said, and Steph just blinked at him for a moment. "A vigilante, yes, but a hero. More than me. More than the other Robins. You started not because you thought you had to, or because you idolized something, or because you were desperate for revenge. You started because you knew you could be better than your circumstances, and you knew you could make circumstances better for others, too."
Steph just stared at Bruce for a moment, the words sinking into a swirling light in her chest. She felt something loosen in her shoulders, and she had to look away from Bruce before she did something embarassing. "I think that's the most you've ever said to me outside of a lecture," she joked, and if Bruce heard the waver of tears in her voice, he didn't mention them.
Gotham continued to pulse, her heartbeat as unwavering as her citizens. It was a city of struggle and darkness and fights, but it was home.
Steph was proud to be one of her protectors.