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August 8th 2021 - Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic - Park Row - Gotham City - New Jersey - United States of America

The world was a cacophony of heart rate monitors and sirens in the distance. Stephanie felt that wonderful dissociation that only massive amounts of painkillers and sedatives can give.

“Is there any hope Leslie?” Batman’s gravely voice cut through the haze. Stephanie straining to hear their conversation.

“I’m… afraid not, She just…” Her voice almost a whisper “She suffered too much internal trauma before making it here.”

‘Sucks to be that girl’ Stephanie thought listening to the slow beeping of her heart monitor.

“It’s only a matter of minutes now” Leslie added her voice trembling.

“Leave me alone with her for a moment.” Batman ordered his voice cracking

“Sure…” Leslie said much closer than Stephanie expected as something icy running down Stephanies arm “I’ll see that you’re not disturbed.”

Stephanie cracked open her eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “Batman?”

“Shhhh, you shouldn’t try to speak Stephanie.”  His voice had lost its edge, it was gentle; almost fatherly “You need to save your strength.”

‘Of course I screw this up too’ “I screwed up so bad” Stephanie winced as she felt her shattered collar bone grind painlessly. “It was me. I started this war.”

“I know but there is no need to worry about that now” Batman cut in “we took care…”

“You were so right to fire me.” Stephanie interrupted as she thought about all the chaos she had unwittingly unleashed on Gotham “I really fucked up”

Her mind was muddy with heavy thoughts as she thought about her life “I have a baby. Did you know that?” she asked looking at Batman but thinking about the previous year “She’s not mine anymore but—”

“Don’t worry Stephanie” Batman cut her off “She’ll never want for anything. I promise.” he squeezed her fingers. She tried to squeeze them back but her limbs were so heavy now.

The nearby machine was beeping slower. Thoughts of Tim filled her mind, some pleasant, some less so. Tears prickled at her eye “Does Tim hate me? You know… for stealing Robin?”

“No of course not. He adores you” Batman said quietly as he pulled the cowl off and wiping his eyes with his cape “He always has”

“Batman...” Stephanie rallied her strength opening her eyes that she didn’t remember closing. She was seeing his face for the first time. “…Bruce Wayne?”

“I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere” Bruce said with his mascara running down his cheeks.

“When you let me be robin” Stephanie started thinking about Tim retiring and how he was Robin again “It wasn’t just some kind of trick was it? A way to get Tim to come back? Or your way to show me I wasn’t cut out for the job?”

Stephanie felt bad the moment she said it, here she was in some bed doped up on the best painkillers Gotham’s favorite son could buy while some girl was dying nearby and she was accusing batman of something heinous….and his face said it might be true.

“Stephanie I—” his voice wavering and high like he might break down sobbing.

“Was any of it real?” her voice weak as she struggled to keep her eyes open “was I ever really Robin?”

“Of course you were.” Bruce admitted his voice low with shame.

“Good” Stephanie grinned relief flooding her…or maybe more morphine “Then I was really part of it—Part of the legend.” She tried to open her eyes but they were so heavy again “Even if it was only for a little while.”

“No matter what no one can take that away” she admitted with relief as she sagged into her pillow.

“No matter what” Bruce agreed she wished he would hold her hand again, as she watched him lift her hand to his lips planting a gentle kiss on her bruised knuckles.

“I think..." Stephanie said softly as she sank deeper and deeper into the blackness, as the heart monitor for that other girl started to scream annoyingly in alarm. "I need to rest now...”

“You bet. I’ll be here watching over you,” came Bruce's voice as she fell into the abyss; the last thing she heard was the impossible, “I’m sorry” mixed with the sounds of a grown man crying. 

‘I didn’t know he could do that’

August 10th, 2021 - Gotham Cemetery - Gotham City - New Jersey - United States of America

The world was bright and sunny, the opposite of what you would expect for a funeral.
Her casket was a beautiful Amaranth, its violet hues striking against the silver handlebars. It was too expensive and lavish, its polish gleaming in the sun. Whatever Bruce paid for it hadn’t been enough.

It was the kind of day where Tim half-expected to find Stephanie stretched out on a roof soaking up as much of the rare Gotham sun as she could, sometimes Tim suspected she might have a bit of Kryptonian in her family tree based on how much she loved lounging in the sun.

Tim wanted to cry at the thought of Stephanie lying broken in her closed casket, but there are only so many tears to shed.

Tim wasn’t a stranger to loss anymore. The Justice League was at each other’s throats. Gotham was still smoldering in the distance. His fathers Death. It had been too much— all at once.

“How are you doing, son?” Bruce asked his sudden appearance making Tim Jump. His red-rimmed eyes fixed on a large marble headstone a hundred feet beyond the wrought iron gate marking the Wayne family plot.

“I am not your son, Bruce” Tim spat “I am your partner”

“How are you holding up… Timmothy?” His voice unsure and unsteady.

“It’s too quiet” Tim said hollowly “She would hate this”

“She probably would” Bruce admitted  “I assume at least, she is very boisterous”

“Was,” Tim sniffled. “Sometimes I wished she would shut the hell up,” he added, his voice shaking with regret “I would give anything to hear her voice again.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Tim,” Bruce said quietly— factually, like he was surveying a battlefield rather than attending a funeral.

“She wasn’t my loss,” Tim snapped, with a little more venom than intended “Our loss. We all lost her”

“She wasn’t cut out for this life” Bruce’s eyes flickering to the violet coffin like he was reading a report. “I always knew it would end this way– too reckless and rash for her own good”

Tim glared at him “She is dead because we abandoned her.

“She’s dead because of her own choices,” Bruce chided.  “She should have given up when I told her to.”

"You and I both know that was never in her nature” Tim said pulling at a loose thread on his sleeve “You two are alike like that”

“I know,” Bruce said mournfully.

“You are kind of a bastard Bruce.”

“Yeah, I have been told that.”

Crystal Browns sobs drifted to their position on the wind. “Not my baby girl…”

“We should arrange for rehab for Crystal” Tim said monotone as he watched a casket get lowered into the earth – for the third time this week “but it should be something discrete, I wouldn’t want crystal to lose her career.”

“Agreed” Bruce said quietly.

“There is a facility outside Metropolis” Tim practically whispered “Its very expensive.”

“I know of it, there is a better treatment center in Colorado that has better outcomes” Bruce offered “Very exclusive, Very discrete.”

“Very expensive?” Tim asked.

“Obscenely,” Bruce answered, already turning and drawing his phone to make the call. “Ill make the arrangements now.”

“Good.”

A flash of blond hair caught Tim’s eye as a statuesque blonde woman threaded her way through the mourners striding towards him. Tims heart skipped a beat—like seeing a ghost at her own funeral— before he saw how she held herself, somehow less confidant but powerful.

She moved wrong in her black dress, each step seemed somehow simultaneously as heavy as a semi truck and light as a feather. This wasn’t Stephanie. it was Kara Danvers.

“I am so sorry Tim,” Kara said her voice a whisper on a summer breeze “I… If I’d known how bad Gotham had become I would have come to help…”

“Kara, Gotham handles its own problems,” Tim said quietly “I don’t think you could’ve changed anything.”

“I could have tried”

“By the time we knew what was going on it was already too late to ask for help for her sake.” Tim grunted, nodding towards the coffin. “And in the chaos… a large shipment of kryptonite went missing, that would have been you, that’s why I chose not to ask for help.”

“You don’t make choices for me, Timmothy Drake,” Kara stilled her glare cold fury “You ask for help— I decide what is worth the risk.”

“Noted,” Tim said flatly.

“I was going to be in Gotham this week anyway,” Her eyes brimmed with tears the fury fading as fast as it had flared.

“Why?” Tim said, looking at her curiously.

“Tim,” Her eyes full of concern as she tilted his head up to look in her eyes, “Today is August tenth.”

Tim's blood ran cold as grief threatened to swallow him.

“Her Birthday… I had forgotten.”

“I’m going to check on Cassie,” Kara said, gently placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder “I’ll be patrolling Gotham for the next few days. Get some sleep.”

“No metas in Gotham!” Bruce growled, returning from his phone call.

“As I’m sure Stephanie would say: Fuck off, Batman,” Kara growled back as a light breeze of displaced air and the sonic boom were the signs of her departure.

“I am going to go visit my son” Bruce said walking away as the mourners had started making their way to their cars “would you like to join me?”

“You know where Dick is?” Tim’s surprise all over his face.

“I am going to see Jason,” Bruce corrected his face schooled back into an emotionless mask as he skulked towards the gate to the Wayne family plot “I always know where to find him.”

Somewhen - Somewhere - Somehow -  Somewhy

Stephanie Brown was just thought, thought and alone in the most comfortable abyss. It was like a hug, safe and warm, free of all pain. She felt like she hadn’t missed a meal in days, got a full nights sleep and had just stepped out of a hot shower.

The abyss was so nice, Stephanie could feel it trying to draw her deeper into its depths. There would be no pain down there, no broken bones, no burns, none of black masks lingering touches. If she just let it take her, she could become nothing at all, she could go to that undiscovered country.

Sometimes if she listened hard she could hear people, even see them a little. Muffled voices in the next room, like when her parents fought about money and thought she was sleeping. Or seeing someone through frosted glass.

Tim was being an idiot per usual.

Blaming himself for something stupid.

Her death? She can’t be dead,

‘Only dead people are dead.’

But she wasn’t dead, she was still alive.

Otherwise Bruce wouldn’t be blaming her.

She was just stuck…like when she was Black Mask’s prisoner.

‘I have escaped worse’

She was not dead. Cass is singing happy birthday to her.

‘Dead people don’t have birthdays.’

‘why is she crying?’

‘Why is she CRYING!’

The desire to hug her was more overwhelming than the abyss.

She just didn’t have a body to do it.

‘………………………..…FUCK.’

August 10th, 2021 - Gotham Harbor - Gotham City - New Jersey - United States of America

Blue skies stretched overhead in every direction — as far as Blüdhaven the skies were clear. A perfect summer’s day. The kind of day Stephanie would declare a ‘movie day’ like last June, when they spent the entire afternoon in an ice-cold theatre, with hot buttery popcorn, and a single shared Dr. Pepper.

Cass wiped her eyes and snapped her attention back to the docks. Three men, worn leather jackets and jeans. The leader, stiff left shoulder; injury or a pistol in a shoulder holster. He kept glancing towards the piers main gate.

‘Anxious, expecting company.’

The other two were more obvious. Red hair was testing the weight of a large handgun repeatedly, drawing it and holstering then drawing it again.

‘Excited. Like a child. He needs to be first.’

Blonde hair was twitchy, bad hand tremors. Not anxious—Withdrawal.  Gun drawn, but tremors, bad aim.

‘Needs help, disable, disarm, send to rehab.’

The three were watching dock workers loading heavy crates into a semitruck. Gotham had changed since the gang war; Gotham used to have the decency to try to do its crime under the cover of darkness, it was hardly ten in the morning and they were transporting weapons in broad daylight.

Cass eyed all three of them. Mentally mapping out the encounter, it was unlikely to go wrong.

She got a running jump. She landed on a crate being carried by two men, dropping a tracker between the slats of the lid.

Then she front flipped off the crate and brought her heel down hard on Red's head, a move Dick taught her. He crumpled to the ground as she landed on his back.

She simultaneously threw a Batarang into the gun hand of Twitchy, forcing him to drop the gun.  

She leapt from Reds prone form to give Twitchy a solid right cross sending him sprawling.

Cra- CRAK

 Shotgun!

Kablam!
Cra- CRAK
Kablam!
Cra- CRAK
Kablam!

SKRNCH!  

Cass turned to see black dress fluttering in the breeze as Kara turned to look at Cass, a mangled shotgun in crushed in one fist.

“I hope you don’t mind, You missed the funeral and I well…” She gestured to the two unconscious men and as she discarded a ruined shotgun.

Cass picked up Reds Gun cleared the chamber and ejected the magazine, she did the same with Twitchy’s weapon.

“Earth to Batgirl— the funeral you missed it.”

Cass stopped and looked at her and cocked an eyebrow up “Not going.”

“I noticed, want to tell me why?” Kara smiled softly Sad eyes.

“No.”

“Alright. So helpful. Typical Bat.” Kara muttered, “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes.”

“Cassie, I just saved you from being shot in the back,” Kara said through clenched teeth. “Because you didn’t spot the fourth guy with the shotgun behind the truck.”

“Had it handled,” she said matter-of-factly spreading out her cape with one arm “Kevlar.”

“You would be dead!” Kara said, turning around messing up her own hair in frustration.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. All my friends are dead.”

“Cassandra Cain, you are scaring me!” Kara said softly.She picked up a spent bullet and flicked it at Twitchy as he tried to get up, knocking him unconscious.

“I want you to promise me that you won’t do something rash.”

“No.”

“I’ll bench you,” kara threatened.

“That’s how Spoiler died,” Cass said quietly.

Kara wrapped her arms around her.

“I am just a shout away if you need me, I promise.”

“I won't call.”

“Then you're coming with me,” Kara said, already flying off with Cass, leaving the docks behind.

“Where?” Cass asked as they gained altitude.

“We have a friend’s birthday to honor. We are going to make the streets of Gotham remember Spoiler.”

“How?”

“I know where to buy glitter by the bucket,” Kara said, A mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Somewhen - Somewhere - Somehow -  Somewhy

Stephanie didn’t know how long she’d been crying. Crying without eyes was a surreal experience. Each tear a memory— and the moment it fell, the void devoured it.

Her first kiss was with... Dean?
No—Tim?
Definitely on the bleachers her Junior year…
Or was it outside that collapsed church, with Tim?
That doesn’t feel right.

She broke her first bone when she fell off her bike and fractured her arm…
Or was it when her father threw that dish at her?
Or when she failed to stick that landing?
She’d never broken a bone.
Had she?

Her first time was with Dean in the back of his car her Freshmen year…
No – it was with Tim.
Who’s Dean again?

The first time she became Spoiler was when she spray painted that building?
No – it was when she teamed up with Batman to stop her father…
No – to stop Cluemaster.

Who was the father of her baby?
Was it Tim? It feels like it should be Tim…
But it might have been someone else….
Who’s Tim?
She miscarried…
No – she remembers holding her just before they took her away…

A memory, a quiet girl hovering over her, was dragged to the surface as she was about to shed its tear.

She is startled awake by a hand over her mouth.
Batgirl had climbed through her window and was brandishing a bloody piece of paper at her.
Demanding she read it for her.
Refusing every question.
It’s a ransom note…
Batgirl can’t read it….
Batgirl can’t read...
Stephanie feels her heart break; at the thought of the void taking this memory.
She quickly forces it deep within her.

She is stuffing that one deep as another tear vanishes into the dark…
and she has no clue what was taken.

‘Im fading,’  Stephanie realizes with dawning horror.
 This place is erasing her.
She slams up defenses, and she can feel the dark clawing for more memories.

It tries to draw a different memory out.
Rooftop TAG— ‘NOPE, not that one.’
It snatched another…
Why was she throwing a brick…
At someone?
Who was he?
Why?

August 11th, 2021 - Cassandra Cain's Appartment - Gotham City - New Jersey - United States of America

Kara slumps onto a rooftop couch. It appeared to be mostly held together with duct tape and Gotham’s trademark grit as the first pinks of sunrise started to stain the horizon.

“Needed that,” Cass grinned her elbows on the arm of the couch as she watched the sunrise.

“Same,” Kara smiles “the way you surprised that mugger was hilarious.”

“Yes, glitter everywhere” Cass said dreamily as she looked across the city towards the ocean from her lawn chair.
“We should do this again Cass,” Kara grinned looking over at Cass.
“We should Stephanie,”
“Kara.”
“Sorry,” her voice suddenly somber as she launched to her feet, walking towards the rooftop door “I forgot… I need sleep.”
“Are you good?”
“No, but I’m better.”
“Then I’ll catch you next weekend, we still have at least 40lbs of glitter” Kara smiled as she levitated into the air “You know for her.”
“Yeah,” Cass said quietly as slipped inside. “Next weekend.”

Cass found herself in her lightly decorated but neatly organized apartment.
‘Spartan’ was the word Stephanie used the first time she came here.
She had been bullied into making a little reading nook, Stephanie had filled the shelves with her favorite books for Cass to practice.

Her blackout curtains were drawn, as she toweled her hair dry from her post-patrol shower. She wore a pair of purple pajamas Stephanie insisted on keeping here ‘for sleepovers.’
They still smelled faintly of her.
She opened her fridge and looked at a lonely homemade cupcake, its bright purple frosting sloppily applied days ago.

She pulled out the cupcake, carefully setting it on the counter top.
She removed the Pyrex bowl she had placed over it to keep it fresh, placing it reverently in her sink.
From her junk drawer, she pulled out golden candle in the shape of an 18.
She slowly cut its cheap packaging letting it fall to the otherwise spotless floor.
She placed the candle on top of the cupcake.
It was comically large; an intentional joke at the time.
Now, somehow, it felt obscene.
Her eyes filled with tears she didn’t know she had as she lit the candle.

“Happy birthday to you” her voice shaking as the tears streamed down her face.



“Happy birthday to you” as she choked back the sobs.



“Happy birthday dear…” as she slid to the floor and curled into a ball sobbing, wishing for… something.



“Happy birthday you.” She whispered to the empty room.