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Batman knew he'd have the conversation before he reached the ledge, even before he saw his blond locks.
It was obvious it would happen, I just hoped it would be later rather than sooner.
Not when half his body ached, not when he hadn't slept all day, not when he hadn't managed to have a conversation with Damian and show him he cared, and yet he still felt so frustrated and incompetent for not being able to pull it off.
Maybe when his head wasn't aching, he'd eaten and drunk at least a glass of water and... He wouldn't feel so tired, he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't felt so tired, weighed down by a legacy he could never fulfill.
But of course, was that ever going to happen? He laughed bitterly. No, he wasn't that lucky. He'd never been that lucky.
He thought about ignoring her and leaving, simply pretending he hadn't seen her, but of course that wouldn't be fair, because there was no way Babs could have told him about the argument. He was so sure he'd bet his new cape he never asked for it that he was right. Which only meant she listened to him. Which only meant she listened... And wasn't that bad enough to begin with?
No, it wouldn't be fair not to let her defend herself, especially since he doubted even more that Babs had given him her blessing for this argument. She was in for a lecture (one he'd received himself and that made him feel sorry for the blonde) and maybe a punishment. At least she deserved a straight answer, right?
Of course, it's also not fair that she was sitting here on this ledge, which Dick always used, which everyone knew he used, to stare into space while waiting for dawn when it all became simply too much.
HE REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT, NOT NOW.
He knew himself well enough to know that an argument, now, in this state... could end badly.
"You don't want me as Batgirl," Steph declares suddenly, not with pain, not with resentment, but as a matter of fact.
He sigh, he guess the decision has been made.
Sure thing, he could still leave, which would be even better. This argument might not escalate if he could get some rest, analyze his prejudices, realize how foolish he was, and maybe talk to Alf to try to glean some of his infinite wisdom.
Had it been a day since his argument with Babs? He didn't know; it was still too fresh in his mind.
❝What in the hell were are you thinking... throwing someone so reckless out into the field like that?❞
"No," Batman confessed, perhaps because he thought Steph deserved at least the truth, or perhaps as a vain attempt to make her go away: she would call him an idiot, tell him he wouldn't stop her, and run away.
She didn't do it for that, simply moving forward without taking her eyes off the horizon, still with the mask in her lap, as if she already knew and was simply confirming a fact.
Dick didn't know if that was better or worse.
He sat as far away as he could without the distance forcing him to shout so he could speak in their impending argument. He don't want to hear any more shouting.
"Is it because half my life wasn't simply based on training with broken bones and scars as evidence to prove it?" Stehp asked. Neither of them looked at each other, but Dick could imagine her rolling her eyes.
"Partially..." He answers anyway. If Stehp had any reaction, he didn't see it. "Logically it is like this,I trained for over a year before becoming Robin, did you know that? Tim trained for half a year, if I remember correctly, and even before that, Tim had already trained since I was a child, before I could even walk... Damian didn't have that training like Robin, but that's because he'd already had a pretty tough one even before me" he added quickly about Damian, before she could point that out.
Maybe it was unnecessary, but I wanted to point out that none of them had gotten to where they were for free or without effort.
He might be starting to have auditory hallucinations from lack of sleep, but he's almost certain he hears her mutter, "Sorry, I didn't have an extraordinary enough childhood"
He bit her cheek to avoid answering.
Slowly, almost to herself, Steph said, "you said in part, there are other reasons"
Dick didn't want to say it, but these two points would come up eventually. He figured it would be best now that they were 'opening their hearts' and their tiredness was starting to make it difficult to filter what he said.
"You look like Jay before..." A fucking psychopath in makeup that could only be a mockery of clowns tore him apart piece by piece, and then another group of psychopaths tossed him into a green pit, resulting in this... twisted version of himself.
Dick was grateful he didn't at least say the last bit, because Jason was his own library, one he'd burned down without caring if there were still people inside.
Even so, he gripped the ledge a little, his palms a little tighter. Just thinking about his brother always hurt and brought back other, less-than-nice thoughts, and damn it!...
"I really don't want to-" see another kid hero die again. Dick said, the first words barely above a whisper, but he couldn't even raise his voice or finish the sentence when he was interrupted.
"I'm not going to end up as bad as Jason," Steph replied, or rather, declared, in a tone bordering on petulance and contempt, which Dick felt was unjustified given his track record.
Batman tightened his grip a little, not that Steph saw it anyway. Now, Dick knows he's probably referring to Jason's "current state" (almost like another psychopath), though even then it hurt because he was his brother.
And maybe he should have listened to that part of him that wanted to bite his cheek again, or that part that didn't want to have this conversation in the first place, but can't help but respond, because of the tone Steph used, because of his growing tiredness from not being in a good state for so long, and because of the hundreds of other reasons he'd already thought of, but mostly because he'd blurted out something personal to him and Steph just dismissed it.
He laughed bitterly and then said, "No, you've already ended up worse. At least Jay didn't start a war or cause the others' demise, only his own in his questto prove his worth to Bruce" Dick said bitterly.
...
They fell silent.
A very fragile silence, like waiting for ice to break after throwing a rock.
Steph finally turned to look at him. Dick didn't do the same, but at least he deigned to grimace; this wasn't how he wanted to approach the subject.
He couldn't quite see her expression out of the corner of his eye, but he could see her clutching the mask still in her lap.
"That's your problem with me? You blame me for the 'war games,' don't you?" Steph asked. Dick was surprised she didn't scream; her voice sounded absolutely heartbreaking. It wasn't just anger and frustration, it was pain, guilt.
Dick forced himself to breathe and think about how to respond, his hands clenched on the ledge.
Because no, it wasn't exactly like that, and I needed to figure out how to respond without making the situation even worse.
She interrupted again, "And here I am, thinking you just didn't like her for following Bruce's wishes-"
❝Bruce would never let you get away with sending her out into the field alone.❞
This time it was Dick who interrupted, his tone harsher than he'd intended. "I don't trust you. I think I have justifiable reasons for it." (I don't trust that, in your recklessness, you care more about proving something than saving people.) He didn't say the last part, but he thought that Steph could tell quickly.
Why, ultimately, that was what really mattered to him, because that was what could change things, put lives in danger. Her level of training? It could be improved.
But all of that depended on there being a motivation, a good reason for doing all this... And he wasn't sure she had one.
He saw her out of the corner of his eye, she frowned, and gripped the mask tighter. She didn't respond to the comment.
However, after a few seconds, when he thought she wouldn't say anything more.
"You didn't answer if you blame me for the 'war games'..." Steph said, her voice now taking on a more tired, almost subdued tone.
"I-" That stopped Dick's brain because it was complicated, maybe more than it should have been.
He knew he didn't have very good judgment about Steph. He wasn't the right person to defend her. He didn't really know her; he only knew her worst exploits and how that affected others (neither Bruce nor she herself had asked him if he agreed before giving his the mantle).
He didn't even know when she joined the team, let alone when she became Robin.
But he forced himself to think about it carefully. Did he really blame her?
- He ran through a list of what he knew about her:
- How Babs, Cass, and even Tim stood up for her.
- How Bruce was the complete opposite.
- In all the reports where his quick thinking and even his recklessness saved lives.
- The war games report, the biggest mistake caused by his recklessness.
"No" he broke the silence he hadn't realized he'd created. "But... It's not that simple either," he said slowly.
To his surprise, from what little he could see, Steph seemed patient enough to listen to his explanation.
"Babs says you didn't know what you were doing, that you were in a bad place..." (and wasn't everyone?) he wondered.
"That Bruce shouldn't have had such a shaky plan with an alias only three people knew..." Dick thought, almost certainly, that 'Matches Malone' was known to more people than Bruce, Alfred, and himself. He realized too late how wrong he was.
Steph remained silent, unsure whether to answer or let him say everything he had to say. She simply stared at his face, not as stoic and emotionless as Bruce's. No matter how much she wore the hood and tried to be his exact copy, she could see the conflict clearly written on his face.
"And while there's some truth to that... I don't think she's completely objective, something doesn't add up. You knew exactly how to sneak in and take a file without Bruce knowing, but you couldn't figure out who 'Matches Malone' was?" Dick shook his head and refused to look at her. "No, that doesn't make sense. You were capable and smart enough for both."
She looked at the horizon again (it was still so far until dawn).
"So... I think you knew. You were always very aware that it could end very badly, that you were putting your life and the lives of others in danger... but you chose to ignore it, perhaps out of recklessness" he declared, taking a deep breath, looking down the street.
He didn't see Steph's reaction, and she didn't contradict him either
He stood up, sighed (he wouldn't see the sunrise anymore).
He turned around, but turned his head slightly to see Steph at least a little.
It would be unfair to blame her.
He knew (at least vaguely) of everything she went through: a mother always busy trying to put food on the table, a shitty father she thought she'd have to take care of on her own, a jerk of an older boyfriend who left her with the brunt of all responsibilities, a Bruce who decided to give her a mantle that wasn't hers, at a time when she obviously wasn't ready and it wasn't what she needed, and all because... he resented Tim for giving up?
It was unfair to put all the blame on her, but she wasn't that innocent either.
Because he also remembers all the consequences of gang wars: all the people injured, dead, the hospitals overwhelmed, and they just weren't enough of them to save them all, no matter what they did, the streets filled with blood, people, children shot for being in the middle of a gang shootout, buildings exploding and burning with people inside.
He remembers suffering a damn panic attack when everything reminded him of his horrible personal hell in Bludhaven, and then being hooked up to machines, trying to survive the new fear toxin (only) reminding him of his intimate, doomed months with Blockbuster and Tarantula, his miserable broken leg, unable to do anything to help.
He sighed tiredly, so tired, just remembering it. "So... No, I don't think you're guilty. I think you're at least partly responsible." He declared, though, to be fair, Dick believed all the adults in Gotham in his care were just as, if not more, responsible.
Because where the hell were the adults? Where was his mother, Babs, Bruce? Why did Steph think it would have to come to that in the first place??
She stood up too and turned to face him, still on the ledge.
It was the first time Dick had seen her face in the conversation; he'd never seen her like that before...
Still, he searched her eyes for something and didn't find it (he didn't know what he was looking for).
❝Gosh, Dick, I'm sorry I haven't spent more time trying to train a morderus little, twit..❞
He wondered if Barbara and Stephanie were more like him and Damian than he thought. Dick seemed to be the only one who saw much more in the boy than a heartless little killer, and Babs seemed to be the only one who saw much more in Stephanie than just her past mistakes.
If so, he assumed she wouldn't see what Babs sees, at least not yet.
"No, I don't want you to be Batgirl. I have my reasons, and I don't plan on training you either," Dick said almost as a conclusion. She felt it again; he didn't know if it was normal for her to remain so silent.
When she opened her mouth with what he assumed was... her defense? A retort?
"...at least not yet." Batgirl opened her eyes at his words, her mouth still open. She frowned and tilted her head, seeming to think he wasn't listening very well to what she was actually hearing.
"I'm not taking you away, Batgirl- I'm not Bruce, and we already know how well that tactic works," he sighed. Did he really say that? He'd regret it later.
He turned away again, he couldn't see her "but I was serious that time."
❝Rein Stephanie in or I'll rein her in for you❞
He took off his hood and looked at the security camera, which had access to a very limited list. "I'll keep an eye on you," he declared, not as if it were up for discussion. Steph still didn't respond.
She ran a hand over the giant W in the secret entrance she knew so well, scanning her retina in a brief silence.
She broke it with, "Robin likes you." She heard a snort and smiled a little. "Well, he doesn't hate you, and on his scale, that's pretty good. Are you still at Gotham Academy? I plan on enrolling him too-" in a calmer tone than he'd used throughout the conversation.
Batgirl thought, it sounded like some kind of invitation? "I didn't think you'd also inherited Bruce's innuendos and his almost one-syllable way of speaking," she said, his tone equally more relaxed, the atmosphere a little less tense.
Now he seemed to be the one at a loss for words. A "hmm" was heard, followed by a giggle from Steph.
The blonde was already adjusting to the idea that the gremlin would be watching her and mentally preparing for its strut until Dick said, "Treat him well, okay?" It was heard in a low voice, and now Steph could assure her it was a request.
When the door opened, Dick turned his face slightly, looking at her a little more than before. "Take care of him and... take care of yourself too, Steph," he said. It sounded more like a request; his voice was no longer the gruff tone he'd intended to imitate Bruce.
And that was his farewell as he entered the large Wayne Industries tower.
Because he was especially committed when he said what he said about Jay.
He didn't want to see any more child heroes dead, he didn't want to see Stephanie dead.