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(Nighttime, Gotham, a rooftop somewhere in Crime Alley. Any sun-warmth has leached out of the concrete this late at night, and a cold autumn breeze would tug at the girl’s blonde hair if it weren't hidden beneath a helmet.)
Oracle's voice comes through the comms: “Spoiler, you still there?” It's disguised by the modulator, but Steph would recognize Tim’s voice anywhere.
She doesn't reply.
“If you don't respond in thirty seconds, I’m going to assume someone stole your helmet and dispatch Batgirl to the location of the tracker in your suit.”
(He has a tracker in her suit?) (His disregard of privacy is actually really disturbing.) (Of course, classic Tim.) “Ugh, her?”
“Knew that would get you to say something.”
“Fuck you.” Steph makes a mental note to check her suit for trackers; Tim may have been bluffing about that, but she would bet he's telling the truth. “Anyway, you sure you trust me around her?”
“If I recall correctly, you walked away from that fight worse off than she did.”
And yes, that does ignite the fury in Steph’s chest. Not only did Batman leave her death unavenged, not only did he replace her, but he somehow found a new Batgirl who is better than Steph. When Steph ambushed the girl, intending to teach her replacement a lesson, she'd found a shadow who fought like a dancer, who struck precisely and confidently but refused to use deadly force. Steph was rough-edged and clumsy in comparison.
She's been silent for too long. Tim says, “She doesn't hold a grudge for it, you know.” Steph knows. The creepy little brat had somehow deduced from Steph’s body language that she was lashing out from insecurity and pain. Steph wanted to shove that right back in the not-thinking-about-it box in her head, thanks.
“Look, just come talk to me.” The Oracle voice crackles as the modulator tries to obscure Tim’s emotion.
“You can talk to me right here.”
“Face to face?”
“Maybe I don't want to trek across town. Maybe I like this rooftop.” (It's an unremarkable rooftop.)
“I’d love to join you for the Bat-patented rooftop brooding session, but you kind of have to work with me here, on account of my legs.”
The anger rises again, filling Steph’s throat until she's choking on it. “How can you be so casual about it? How are you not furious about what was taken from you?” (Tim loved flying across the rooftops as Robin. He loved exploring every corner of this rotten, vibrant, stubborn city.)
(For all the villains who have taunted about breaking a little bird's wings, only two have succeeded. One died slowly by Spoiler’s hand a few months ago. The other still sits in Arkham laughing.)
When Tim speaks, the Oracle voice modulator is turned off. She's taken aback by the sheer bitterness in his voice. “You think I’m not furious? You think I don’t know how unfair it is that I'm in a wheelchair while the bastard who shot me and tortured me walked free?” (Undisguised, his voice still cracks. He just turned eighteen. He's still a kid, but also he hasn't been a kid since the moment he put on the Robin suit.) “I pull up the footage of his cell every night to make sure he's still there. If I wanted to, I could hack Arkham’s systems to prescribe him a fatal overdose, and it would be easy. I am hanging onto the no-killing rule by a thread, because I promised myself after the League of Assassins, never again.”
“Oh boo hoo, you got groomed by immortal ninjas. At least someone was there when you woke up from the dead. I had to dig my way out of my fucking grave!”
“And I got dunked in a Lazarus Pit; it's not a competition!”
“Then why are you winning?” she screams.
She didn’t mean to say that. She doesn't even know what she means.
(Tim is coping with his trauma better than she is.)
(Tim is part of the Bats, part of a family, and she's burned all her bridges.)
(Tim was always better than her.) (She used to love him for it.)
Tim is silent for a moment. “Just come see me, alright?” The voice modulator is back on, Oracle’s digital tone masking any emotions.
Steph doesn't reply. But she taps the comm in acknowledgment before slipping off the rooftop and into the night.