[closed] I once stepped on a dying bird, it was a mercy killing

[controlledvariable]

Date & Time: Late night/early morning on the 20th
Location: A rooftop
Characters: Stephanie Brown and Helena Bertinelli
Summary: It turns out having a sentient weapon kind of sucks when you're having a crisis of identity
Warnings: Talk of violence/murder

And when I saw you with that gun, I thought... you know, that's not Stephanie. That's not Batgirl, either. I didn't know who I was looking at.

[The words stick with her, the truth of them is almost cloying, like she could choke and drown on it. It hurts to think about, to know that Saul is right but to now know what the solution to the problem is. All she can see is losing herself further, giving more of herself to this war until there's nothing left, because maybe that means that Ellie won't have to, that Collette or Saul or Dinah or Babs can still be themselves. If this is a sacrifice she has to make for the people she loves, then so be it. That doesn't make it hurt less, but it makes it easier to bear, the reminder that she's doing this for a reason, that she's still protecting the people she loves.

It's something to cling to, when she feels so selfish the rest of the time, when she keeps making so many wrong choices in her personal life, lying to Ellie to try to spare her feelings, telling Saul she loves him even though they both know nothing can ever come of it, avoiding everyone from home because it's too hard to face them. She's selfish, and she's a killer, and all of it hurts, but she doesn't know how to do anything else, any more.

She feels like she's suffocating, like she needs air, so Steph grabs her Batgirl suit and pulls it on, planning to head out for a few hours. She's so desperate to get out into the open air that she doesn't really take a look at her uniform, doesn't notice the way the symbol on her chest has started to fade, the yellow dulled, as if it's gone through the wash too many times. All she does is leave a note for Ellie and slip out the window, firing her grapple gun and letting it pull her out into the night.

Usually, when she needs to forget for a little while, she can spend hours flying through the air, twisting and flipping across rooftops, but she needs to be careful tonight; the gash on her thigh is already healing too slowly, she doesn't want to risk opening it up again. She flies, but it's not enough, and before long she finds herself coming to rest on a rooftop, because she can't focus on a grapple line when her thoughts are swirling so darkly. Too much has happened for her to forget it, even for a little while, and in the end she finds herself on the edge of the roof, knees curled up to her chest as she watches the city through the rain. If she closes her eyes, she can pretend there's a gargoyle next to her, though she doesn't speak out loud like she might back home.

She wonders what Gotham would think of her, now, with blood on her hands. God knows the city isn't forgiving, but there's part of Steph that thinks of Gotham welcoming Jason back, and she can only pray her city will do the same for her.

Even if she can't be Batgirl, even if Bruce and Cass and Tim wouldn't recognize the person she is now, she has to believe her city would welcome her home.

If it doesn't, there's nothing else left.]

Comments

[controlledvariable]

[She nods, still a little shaky, but just silently agreeing.]

As long as they're saying them as compliments.

[hahahah

as if]

[crossbearing]

Right.

( hahahaha

oh stephanie u r hilarious )

Home of screw ups, screwballs, crooks and Bats.

( And she's a member of all three groups, apparently. Drawing away from Stephanie, arms crossing over her chest. )

[controlledvariable]

I think I've got three out of four, there.

[But which.]

[crossbearing]

Too late. I already got bingo.

( This is the worst joke ever. ) I think you've got two, at best. You're kind of weird.

( Can they be playful at all right now, or is it going to fall flat? Diplomatic relations has never been her skillset. )

[controlledvariable]

Do you win anything with that?

[What do you win if you get Gotham stereotypes bingo?

She does manage a small, wry smile at the joke.]

Screwball is the one I wasn't counting, actually.

[crossbearing]

Lifetime need for therapy.

(





no that's basically it, she had the lamborgini before she was a Bat. One of them, anyway. )

I'm a teacher, I know this stuff. You aren't a screw up or a crook. You fought both of those things.

[controlledvariable]

You get that even without the bingo.

[No but for real.

She misses the therapist she had in Africa.]

You know vigilantism is illegal, right? By definition.

[As if they can keep making a joke of this, instead of Steph just pointing that Helena is wrong.

She's both those things, there's no way around it.]

[crossbearing]

( A drawn out moment, before Helena's shoulders shake a little. It's soft, at first, before she's laughing.

There's nothing pleasant about the sound. )

Right. Of course.

( Oh, God. Why hadn't she thought about it before? ) The Bats are the most infamous crime family in Gotham.

( Great. Everything is perfect. )

[controlledvariable]

[That's a little worrying.

She's laughed like that enough times to recognize it for what it is, that brittle crack before breaking.]

We should remember that if he ever shows up.

[She decides to keep with the joke, rather than drawing attention to the way Helena sounds.]

[crossbearing]

Yeah. Of course.

( Something vicious in her raises its head, and she doesn't quite face Stephanie. ) I bet he was over the moon when the Bertinellis got wiped out. Taking out the competition families, right?

( He must have been so glad to hear that they got their justice. Her laughter is a bitter, shattered thing, the cracks in glass. ) You do a better job as the Bat than he ever did.

[controlledvariable]

[Her relationship with Bruce is complicated at best, but that comment still makes her flinch, and she's glad at Helena isn't looking at her.]

I don't think he would've been.

[Happy.

People died, a little girl lost her parents. Bruce could never be happy about that, even if it meant less mobsters on the streets. She's not sure if she's defending him or trying to reassure Helena that someone wouldn't be that cold about her loss.

She has no idea what to say about the rest of what Helena says, so she stays silent.]

[crossbearing]

No?

( Because she was never good enough - there is no redemption, only the option to slip deeper.
But Stephanie still believes in the Bat, in what it means. Helena fixes her gaze on Stephanie, now, those sharp and careful things that catch even the slightest motion and stalk their prey. )

[controlledvariable]

[She's not the same girl who was scared of Helena, all those years ago, but she's still intimidated by her, and the way Helena looks at her makes her want to draw back.

She doesn't, but she wants to.]

He'd never be happy about people dying.

[Even if they were criminals.

That's kind of his thing, isn't it?]

[crossbearing]

Yeah. And think about everything it cost him.

( How dare he. Murder might not be right, it might not be justice, and yet. ) What has it cost the people around him? How many lives do you think could have been saved if the Joker was put down years ago?

( If Sionis had been put down? No. ) I might be a monster, but at least I'm not one through inaction.

( Which might be the worst thing Batman is guilty of. )

[controlledvariable]

[There's something unhappy in the way Steph looks at her, still uncertain, but there's almost a flicker of annoyance.

Steph knows what it's like, to be angry at Bruce, but she also wants to ask how Helena can do this now, when Steph barely just got herself back together after being so distressed over having to kill?]

I never called you a monster.

[What is Helena defending herself against, right now?]

[crossbearing]

( Some part of her hoped Stephanie would react more, that she's rebel against what Helena was saying, that she'd damn her and remember the difference between them, that it might make that bat on her chest define itself again. Sometimes Helena likes to wish for the impossible.

She was never very good at manipulation, unfortunately, and she grits her teeth with irritation. Stephanie really isn't a kid any more, it seems - the second people become adults, it's so much harder to deal with them. Her hand drops from her hip, and the air feels sharp against her lungs, even if her breath is steady. ) Right.

( The easy solutions never work. Should have known that already, Huntress.)

[controlledvariable]

[She doesn't know what else to say, her hackles are up and Helena's response has left her confused and a little bit annoyed.

The anger deflated too easily, and she isn't sure how to deal with it, how to respond.

So she doesn't, just draws her cape around her and watches Helena, waiting for whatever she has to say next, if there's anything.]

[crossbearing]

It'd be easier if you'd hate me and see yourself as something different.

( But Spoiler had been more accepting of the Huntress, of her violence, and so was Batgirl. ) Then you might remember you're a Bat. No matter what.

( Softly, flatly, and though there isn't defeat in her tone, she sounds tired. Sometimes, she wish she could just hate, be hated, that there was that fire in her blood to keep her moving. It doesn't matter, she keeps moving anyway, but sometimes she wonders if she even should be. This is my city, but this wasn't even Gotham. )

[controlledvariable]

[She's silent for another long moment, just staring at Helena.

Finally:] That's so fucking stupid.

[It's not said meanly, it's not an insult, not really. If anything she just sounds a little baffled, maybe a little sad.]

You shouldn't-- [a frustrated huff of breath] Don't make yourself some martyr for my sake. I don't need it, and I don't want it.

[She wants to find a way to reconcile her morality with her actions, but dragging someone else down in her place isn't the way to do it.]

[crossbearing]

I'm not interested in being a martyr.

( Bluntly. It's sort of what she was doing, but at the same time, no. )

You need to take a step back from what you're doing and what you're thinking before you burn yourself up.

( Helena's already in the dark place. There's not really a way to drag her down any further. )

[controlledvariable]

[She doesn't argue it; she's not looking for a fight here, not right now, and definitely not with Helena.]

We don't get chances to step back, here. [It's not angry, she just sounds tired.] As soon as one crisis is over we're thrown straight into the next one.

[crossbearing]

All the more reason to do it. If you don't, you'll just get torn apart.

( There is too much pressure, too much tension, for anything else to be the case. Stephanie is experienced, yes, but she is still young. )

[controlledvariable]

[There's a long drag of silence, then:]

You're being a bit melodramatic.

[It's not dismissive, but there's a lightness to it.]

I think there's a few people who'd have something to say about it if I let myself get torn apart.

[Which is an odd way of phrasing things, but what she means is that she has support, people who care about her and will help her get through... whatever exactly this is.

Of course, that will require actually opening up to people, but one step at a time.]

[crossbearing]

( She doesn't appreciate the tone. She doesn't appreciate Bats talking as if they know better than she does, dismissing her even if that's not what Stephanie is meaning to do. Lightness is mockery. It's not taking her words seriously

There's a few people. Fine, then. The Huntress' opinion was neither welcomed, nor is it apparently necessary. )

Suit yourself.

( And she's moving to go. )

[controlledvariable]

Oh-- [She sighs, though it's directed at herself, rather than Helena.] Come on, Huntress, I didn't mean it like that.

[Not that she's exactly sure how Helena took it, she just didn't mean it in a way that requires walking away from her.

But Helena was trying to help her, and Steph doesn't want to end the conversation like this.]