Chapter Text
Stephanie didn’t know what she felt like, because everything was too loud and too quiet at the same time.
Back to Gotham, this wretched city which might never be so forgiving. Spoiler was supposed to be her anchor, her strength. The mask, the satchel, the late nights; they were what made her feel like she mattered. But now the latex and Kevlar sat discarded on her bathroom floor, not like armor but like a box of rusted nails digging into her skin. Her body remembered every jagged edge, every crack, and what better than to make the hurt real, she pulled at her drawer, the bathroom was messy, she’d been too lazy to clean it.
No. She breathed the word out like it was a command to herself. She had promised her mom. she’d been so happy that she’d cried when Stephanie returned home, so she would let her poor mother have at least that, because she’d compromised, broken her trust, gone out as Spoiler again after everything. The bruises had faded now, but their ghosts hadn’t. Whenever she undressed and caught her reflection, the mirror threw Black Mask back at her. His hands. His violence. His violation of her sense of self. Not in the literal sense, not like that. But sometimes it didn’t matter. Her body still flinched as if it had.
Tim didn’t talk to her anymore, at least not how he used to. Maybe it was because he didn’t trust her anymore. He’d kissed her when he first saw her again, that desperate, reckless kiss. But after that it was nothing but distance she hated.
Cassandra hadn’t found her yet either. Maybe she hadn’t even tried. Maybe she didn’t care. They weren’t like Stephanie. They weren’t failures orbiting on the edge of every circle they wanted to belong to.
Her stomach lurched, nausea crawling up her throat. It always took her back to that time, when she was 15, totally fat and glowing from the pregnancy that wasn't supposed to happen. All mistakes. At least a certain Alvin Draper had been kind enough to take her to Lamaze classes until he couldn't.
“I have a baby. Did you know that?” Stephanie said suddenly, her voice shifting, as if it belonged to someone else.
“Not that I remember.” came a low voice from behind. Eyebrows lifted under a cowl. “You’ve gotten better at reading your surroundings”
Stephanie spun, heart leaping. Cassandra.
She wanted to hug her, to cry, to chat her to death. She’d missed her that much. But instead, in the blink of an eye, Cass tackled her, throwing her flat to the ground. Thighs pinned her waist. Arms locked her down. She was thrown onto the floor immediately, “You did not tell me you were alive.” Cassandra’s voice trembled even through its sharpness. “Why?”
“Psst—let go, hurts,” Stephanie gasped. Not so much from the weight on her chest, though that stung too, but from the embarrassment. The powerlessness. Her throat constricted until she realised Cass wasn’t restraining her because of anger, she was shaking because she was devastated.
Stephanie’s frantic words slowed. Her hand reached up, brushing Cass’s arm. “I was going to. I couldn’t find ya!”
A tap against Cass’s wrist, a silent surrender. Cassandra let her go, sitting back, arms folded defensively. Stephanie drew in air like she hadn’t breathed in weeks. “I would have told you eventually,” she muttered, trying to smile through it. "but you’re a ghost Cassie!”
A hum was the only reply. Then Cass pulled her mask back, hair tumbling out.
“Where?” she asked flatly.
“East Africa. Medical assistance work. Leslie… Leslie was good to me. She's the one who reckon I-” “And now you’re back in the suit,” Cass cut in, not cruel, just efficient. She never had time for half-truths.
“Nunya,” Stephanie shot back quickly, smirking despite herself.
Cass tilted her head. “Was it true? About the baby?”
Stephanie’s grin widened, mischievous and sharp, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not even a little bit.”
Cass studied her for a moment longer, then rose silently, pulling the cowl back into place. Without another word, she stepped out Stephanie’s window into the Gotham night.
Steph sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, her smile fading into the silence she’d gotten so used to. "Goodbye, Batgirl."