A/N - TW: Brief mention of previously discussed attempted rape. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Do not kill people for any reason, it is illegal and wrong.

Arthur lay comfortably propped up on his bunk, lazily watching a spider spinning a web on the ceiling while letting the comforting sounds of Floyd's rambling wash over him.

Fuck, he missed his friends. And how funny was that, that those fuckers had somehow become his friends, despite their stupidity and shenanigans and general inclination towards finding the most chaotic solution possible to any problem that the Suicide Squad was ever faced with?

Yeah, Arkham wasn't the same without them.

Still. At least he had a lot more perks now, like his own personal cellphone so he could stay in touch more easily. Arthur had to hand it to Harley, the girl knew how to work a pardon.

Ouisie and Len were taking their separation from their teammates hard, too, Arthur knew, in part because of how many times a week they rolled up to Arkham to visit him. Arthur had no illusions that he'd ever been their favorite teammate prior to their forced cohabitation suddenly dissolving into freedom, but now they showed up at least two or three times a week, sometimes with Harley, and usually with Waylon, who often had June tagging along.

She was a nice girl, that June. Way too sweet for the likes of their bunch, Arthur privately thought, but she never seemed to mind being around them and God knows she looked at Waylon like he was Brad Pitt or something, so Croc must be treating her good.

Crystal used to look at Arthur like that, back when they first got together - until he'd gone and fucked up one too many times, that was. Eh, well, it wasn't really Crys's fault, Arthur admitted to himself with a sigh. He'd done a little more than get grouchy or pick a fight, he thought with a wave of melancholy.

On the phone, Floyd paused in his ramblings over Kiara's latest millionth wonder, and said, "Did you feel like being a dad was the single greatest thing that ever happened to you, Art?"

"At first," Arthur said, feeling the pang that went through his heart, making him wince. "When Steph was first born, yeah, for sure," he said, feeling his throat go tight with tears he didn't want to shed.

"What happened?" Floyd asked him gently, understanding lacing his voice. Deadshot knew, they all knew, how far Arthur had fallen from grace.

"Well," Arthur sighed, chewing over his words, "after awhile they're not cute, they're a pain in your ass that won't shut up and is getting on your last nerve, and you're exhausted and work is going to hell and you're fighting with the missus on top of it, and you swear to God, if your kid whines at you one. more. time. about whatever damn book she needs from the library to finish her stupid school project you'll knock her damn block off, so you shove her in a closet and lock the door so you won't beat her ass black and blue and … yeah," Arthur trailed off, shame spilling out of every pore.

Floyd was quiet on the other end of the phone.

"At least you didn't beat her?" he finally offered up after a minute.

"I guess," Arthur laughed hollowly. "Not sure she sees it that way. Not really sure I do, either," he said.

"Yeah," Floyd said softly.

"Don't be like me," Arthur said, his eyes burning with tears.

"I'll try," Floyd said seriously, for once not making a joke out of it. "You, uh, you got any advice how?" Deadshot said, sounding a tad vulnerable. "Cause I mean, if you started out loving your kid as much as I do…"

Arthur thought, scrunching his bedsheets up in his hand.

"Just - don't be mean. Screw the rest of the world, screw the rest of your life, but be nice to your kid and be nice to your woman," he said. "Be an asshole to everybody else if you have to, but not them. Because it started small, you know?" Arthur said, really thinking back now.

"Being short with Crys, cause I didn't feel like spending the extra energy on being patient. Same with Steph," he said, remembering. "Letting myself get annoyed with the little things and showing her I was, instead of swallowing it down and letting her feel loved like she deserved to be."

Floyd hummed.

"That's deep, man," he said.

"I don't know, not really," Arthur said. "It's not that complicated. It's not easy, though. What's easy is being an asshole."

"Yeah," Floyd said quietly. "So, uh, what I hear you telling me," he said, clearing his throat, "is that for the good of my family, I have your permission to be an utter asshole to you at every opportunity."

"Bitch," Arthur said, starting to genuinely laugh.

"No, no, you said it," Floyd said, and Arthur could hear the smirk in his voice. "Screw everybody else and treat them like shit but be nice to my family. I'm gonna take your advice real good, Arty. You'll see."

"Yeah, I bet I will," Arthur chuckled. "Hang on a sec," he said as a guard approached his cell.

"Mister Brown? You have visitors," she said.

"Oh, hey, Floyd, the rest of the gang is here. I gotta go, alright?" Arthur said.

"Alright, buddy," Floyd said. "Tell 'em I said hey. And give them the lecture about treating you like assholes, too."

"You can't see it, but I'm giving you the finger," Arthur said.

"Right back at ya," Floyd laughed before hanging up the phone.

"We'll be heading upstairs to the therapy wing today," the guard said to Cluemaster as he exited his cell. "Your therapist gave permission to use her office for this visit."

"How come?" Arthur said, raising his eyebrow. "We always use the private visitor room."

The guard pursed her lips like she knew the answer and it pissed her off.

"I don't know," is all she said though, and in a damn dismissive voice, too.

Arthur quietly sighed to himself behind her back. He might have a pardon and privileges, but that didn't mean the guards had to like it, and the ones who didn't, definitely let him know.

Arthur did a double take when he opened the door to Dr. Katz's office, because he was expecting to see the gang and his eyes refused to process at first the middle-aged guy and the teenager and -

"Stephie!" Arthur breathed out in amazement, pausing in the doorway while his feet forget how to move.

He stood there as frozen as one of Vik's living ice cubes, except for the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Across the room, his daughter - his daughter was here, visiting him - and she was starting to cry, too.

"Please, come in, Mr. Brown," the older guy was standing and saying, and he had come over to gently escort Art all the way into the office and shut the door behind him before Arthur managed to tear his eyes away from Stephie long enough to really focus on who was with her.

"Holy shit!" Arthur said, jumping a little bit. "You're Bruce Wayne!"

"Yes, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Brown," the fucking billionaire was saying as he reached out to shake Arthur's hand, even though Wayne had to do most of the work to accomplish that little gesture, because Arthur's hand was as offline as his feet. "I'm Steph's legal guardian," Wayne was saying as he guided Arthur to an armchair - a fact which Arty knew, but only recently and thanks to Harley.

"This is my neighbor's son, Tim Drake," Wayne was continuing to introduce. "He's living with me temporarily to finish high school while his parents are abroad."

The kid neither stood up from where he was seated next to Stephie on the couch nor tried to shake Cluemaster's hand, and Arthur couldn't blame him, but the teen did give him a little nod.

"He's my boyfriend," Steph said as Arthur finally managed to sit down, but that proclamation launched him to the edge of his seat.

"Boyfriend!" Arthur sputtered indignantly. "How old are you, even?" he demanded of Steph and oh, shit, he knew that look. The look that said he'd gone and kicked the puppy in his daughter's soul again.

"I'm your daughter," Steph snapped back at him. "If you don't know how old I am, I'm not going to tell you."

Well, this visit was off to a shit start, wasn't it? So Arthur figured he might as well say what needed to be said and tank it completely, because his kid hating him was nothing new, but a boyfriend sure as hell was and he'd be damned if he saw her get knocked up by a rich-ass prep school kid.

"I am personal friends with Deadshot," Arthur snarled at the kid, jabbing his finger at him for good measure. "If you so much as slide a hand underneath my baby girl's clothes, he will have himself a contract."

"Don't you dare threaten Tim!" Steph yelled while the kid dared to raise a damn snarky eyebrow back at him. "And my body is my body!" Steph kept ranting as Arthur narrowed his eyes back at the whelp. "You have absolutely no say in who gets to touch it."

"I am saying," Arthur said in a measured but deeply authoritative Dad-voice, without breaking eye-contact with Prep School, "who doesn't get to touch it."

"You are unbelievable," Steph fumed at him. "As if you have any right." Prep School was staring absolute daggers at him, now, but Arthur could not let his daughter's statement slide.

"I am your father!" Arthur started to bellow, turning his head to glare at Steph, and he had a lot more to say, but his kid snorted and said, "Coulda fooled me."

And just like that, Arthur deflated like Polka-Dot Man's hot air balloon after its triumphant tour of Gotham's night skies. He swallowed.

"Just because I've been a shit dad doesn't mean I'm not still your dad," he said in a rough voice, "and that I don't want to see you getting knocked up by some rich brat who doesn't give two shits about you."

"I love Steph," Richie Rich finally spoke up, sounding deeply wounded. Arthur snorted.

"Sure, kid," he said. "That's what they all say when they don't want to use a condom."

"Holy fuck!" Steph yelled at him. "This was a mistake," she said, getting to her feet. "I never should have come. Let's go," she said to Wayne and the little shit.

Wayne looked like he was hesitating, though.

"Let's chat outside for a minute," he said to Steph. He glanced at the shit. "You can stay or come," he said.

"Oh, I'll stay," the kid said grimly, and Arthur supposed he had to give him points for bravery.

"Come on, Steph," Wayne said gently, laying his hand on her shoulder and giving Arthur a frustrated look before escorting his daughter out into the hall.

Well, Wayne could look upset all he wanted. Guardian or not, Steph was Arthur's kid, not his, and Wayne would probably just shove some money at her for an abortion and help the little brat pressure her into it to protect his trust fund. Fuck that, Arthur thought.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms at the kid, what was his name? Drake. Tim Drake. Arthur had to remember that for Deadshot.

"You're a real piece of shit," Drake said to him.

"I'm the piece of shit?" Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. "You're the one trying to fuck my kid."

"I'm not trying to fuck her," Drake scowled at him. "And Steph came here to talk to you, you know. Do you even realize how long it's been since you last had a conversation with your daughter?" the kid snarked at him. "Or do you not care?"

Well, that kinda hurt. Geez. Arthur glanced towards the glass-paneled door where he could see Wayne and Steph out in the hall with their backs turned, and Wayne's arm was around Steph's shoulders and she looked like she was crying and - fuck. That should have been Arthur, being a parent to his kid.

Him and Steph had never had little moments like that. Well, maybe when she was a toddler, Arthur thought, remembering his conversation with Floyd and sighing. Stephie used to love her daddy when she was nothing but a roly poly ball of baby and yellow curls.

A memory flashed in his mind, unbidden, of Stephie sitting in his lap while he read her "The Little Engine That Could," and he could almost hear her chanting, "I fink I can I fink I can."

Damn. Arthur rubbed a hand over his jaw and swallowed hard, screwing his eyes shut in pain. He opened them when the door swung back open, letting a glum Steph and a sober looking Bruce Wayne back inside.

"How about if we start again?" Wayne said as he and Steph sat back down. "Steph had some things that she wanted to tell you, Mr. Brown. Perhaps you could sit quietly and listen to her?"

God, it was like getting scolded by a teacher in elementary school. A rich-ass over-privileged teacher.

"Sure," Arthur said, clearing his throat. "Fine. Yeah. Go ahead, Stephie."

His daughter looked at him in misery, tears still wet in her eyes.

"Mom's a drug addict," she said flatly. "Bruce sent her to rehab and she started using heroin as soon as she got out. She's on the streets now, we don't even know if she's still alive. She signed me over to Bruce. Since you were in jail."

That last part was said with a sneer. Well, Arthur supposed he deserved it this time.

"Yeah," he said roughly, looking down. "Yeah, uh, Harley told me about that. After we got pardoned. I was, um - I was real sorry to hear that, Stephie. Real sorry," he said quietly, feeling the tight ache in his chest once again at the thought of his wife.

"That was good of you to send her to rehab, man," Arthur added, looking up at Bruce. "Why'd you do that? How the hell did you even end up involved with her and Steph?"

"Steph and Tim were friends and Tim asked me to help," Wayne said. "Steph and Crystal were about to be evicted."

Arthur frowned.

"How did you become friends with some rich kid, Stephie?" he said.

"I'm an amateur photographer," Tim said. "We met when I was out taking some shots of the Narrows and we hit it off."

Arthur snorted.

"What now?" Steph said, still sounding pissed. Arthur gave her a look.

"It doesn't bother you that some rich white kid decided to come down to the Narrows to take artsy-fartsy pictures of the poor, sad underbelly of Gotham?" he said. Steph crossed her arms over her chest and looked uncomfortable.

"God," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Please do not let all this fucking one-percent bullshit ruin you," he said to Steph. Steph opened and closed her mouth, but she didn't say anything.

"Let's not get sidetracked, please," Wayne said, like the pretentious prick that he was. "Steph had more she wanted to say."

"Oh, by all means, baby girl," Arthur said, waving a tired hand at his daughter. "Continue." She shifted in her seat.

"You really hurt me," she said quietly to Arthur, and oh, there it was. He'd known it was coming, but God, that knife still twisted anyway.

"I know," he said honestly. "I know I did," he said. "I was a piece of shit father, Steph," he said, "and you deserved better." Steph looked slightly startled that he was acknowledging it, Arthur thought. "I'm sorry," he added.

"That doesn't fix it," Steph whispered.

"I know, baby girl, but what else can I say?" Arthur shrugged. "Can't turn back time. For what it's worth," he said suddenly, thinking of his conversation earlier with Floyd, "I only used to lock you in the closet when I felt like I was gonna beat you."

Steph stared at him, her eyes big and - hurt? Hurt. Well, fuck. He'd thought that might make her feel better, that he'd not completely given up on being a decent parent, despite all the yelling and cursing and general ugly behavior towards her and Crys.

Wayne looked over at Steph, whose chin was wobbling a little bit, but it was the damn boyfriend who spoke.

"I know it must suck, to learn your dad wanted to beat you," he said, picking up Steph's hand and squeezing it, "but, I mean, he cared enough to make sure he didn't? Even if he did it in a really fucked up way?" Drake added, glaring at Arthur again. Steph sniffed. Arthur sighed.

"Look, Stephie," he said. "Sometimes all you can do isn't very much," he said. "I get it. I didn't have to let it get that far in the first place. But I did, and when you're living in it and your life's going to hell -"

Steph looked over at Wayne and seemed to see something in his face that helped her, because she took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Ok."

"Ok," Arthur said quietly. They sat in silence for a minute. "Was there anything else?" Arthur finally said. Steph hesitated, then swallowed hard.

"Yeah," she said in a near whisper. "Yeah, there was one more thing."

"Ok," Arthur said easily, waiting. He started to get a bad feeling in his stomach as the seconds ticked by, and Stephie still couldn't seem to get it out.

Finally, she screwed her eyes shut and said, "When I told you your friend Jim tried to rape me," she mumbled, "and at first you didn't believe me and then you killed him."

Ohhhhh, shit, Arthur thought. Shit shit shit. Wayne and Drake didn't look surprised, though, he noted when he quickly flicked his eyes over to gauge their reactions, and he had a full pardon, Harley had made sure their entire pasts were wiped squeaky clean, but - fuck.

"Yeah," Arthur rasped out. "Yeah, I should have believed you right when you told me, honey," he said, feeling shame wash over him like an ocean tide. "Fuck, Stephie, I'm so sorry, baby, but I made sure he wouldn't ever hurt you again -"

"I felt guilty for that!" Steph yelled at him.

"What?" Arthur said, blinking at her in confusion.

"I felt guilty!" Steph yelled again. "My whole life! I felt like I killed him by telling you, that it was my fault he was dead. How could you do that?"

"Stephanie," Arthur said in a full-on, deadly serious voice, the kind of voice he used when the rest of the Suicide Squad had pulled more than enough shit on a mission and needed to be redirected on task by the one member of the team who wasn't a fucking moron, so they didn't end up getting themselves killed, "I killed him to protect you," he said, leaning forward in his chair and meeting his kid's eyes with a piercing stare.

"To protect you and every other kid in the neighborhood," he added. "You think you were the only one he pulled that shit on? I doubt it," Arthur growled out. "And you think cops or a judge would've given a shit about a child rapist in the Narrows? Hell, no!" Arthur said sharply. "He would've fingered me in half a dozen crimes, and then his friends would've come for you and your mom. Fuck that," Arthur said. "I may have been a shit father, but I did that one thing right," he said with deep conviction.

Steph's chest was heaving rapidly up and down, and her eyes were full of tears that weren't quite spilling over as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry you felt guilty," Arthur said. "If I was a better dad, maybe you could've told me that way back then and maybe I could've helped. Or not," he said. "I don't know. But don't you dare be sorry that fucker's dead," he said. "Or feel like it was your fault," he added, remembering her second concern. "That was all on him," he said firmly.

"Wouldn't you agree?" he said, glancing over at Wayne. "You're a father." The billionaire looked startled.

"I am a father, yes," he said slowly. "But I don't condone killing -"

"You fucking rich people," Arthur spat out on a derisive chuckle. "You're unbelievable. You really think the system works, don't you? Because it works for you," he said with a razor smile. "Let me tell you something, pal," Arthur said, glancing back over at Steph, "down where we come from? The only fucking system there is, is the one keeping us down and letting us down. Bet you didn't get that in your photos, did ya, rich boy?" he said, looking at Drake now.

The teen and Wayne both looked unsettled, and good. Fuck 'em. They could go cry boo hoo hoo to Oprah. Steph, however, looked like she was calming down a little bit, and that was good, too. He was sorry she'd felt guilty, but kids didn't understand how the world worked. And honestly? Arthur felt like making his kid feel guilty over something she shouldn't have was the least of his sins.

"How are you doing otherwise, though?" he asked Steph. "You healthy? Your grades are good?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding faintly surprised. "Yeah, I'm good," she said quietly.

"Good," Arthur said.

There was an awkward pause, and then Steph said, "Bruce, uh, he's gonna pay for me to go college."

"Oh, that's great!" Arthur said sincerely. "Thanks, man," he said, looking over at Wayne. "That's nice of you." The billionaire gave him a little smile and a nod.

"Tell me you aren't old enough for college, yet, though," Arthur said to Steph, frowning as he tried to do the math in his head. "You're not, right?" he said.

"I'm a junior," Steph said, deciding to finally give him a break. "So, one more year," she said.

"Ok," Arthur said in relief. God, he felt old. "Where you gonna go? Gotham U?" he asked her, barely biting off the 'I hope,' cause maybe it would be a good thing if his kid got out of Gotham and away from her billionaire friends, even though in the depths of his heart Arthur wanted the reassurance of knowing she was close by. But -

"Yeah, Gotham U," Stephie was saying. "I want to be a physical therapist and they have a good program for that."

"Oh, good," Arthur said, fighting to keep the ridiculously pleased smile off of his face. "PT, huh," he said. "That would make your mom proud." Crystal had been a nurse. Before she started copping oxy from the hospital and from every asshole doctor who'd write her a scrip, but, yeah. She would've gotten a kick out of Stephie going into a health field. God, he didn't want to cry. He didn't.

"Yeah," Steph mumbled, looking like she didn't want to cry, either, but was thinking pretty damn hard about it, too.

They fell back into silence. As the minutes ticked by and Steph didn't seem inclined to either speak or end the visit, Wayne finally spoke up.

"I told Steph and Tim both that they're not to have sex until they're both sure they feel absolutely ready."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Drake yelped as he and Steph both turned bright red. Arthur coughed on a chuckle.

"And I gave them both boxes of condoms," Wayne went on, "and Steph knows that she's to ask me for a GYN appointment for birth control when she starts thinking she might be ready in the near future to become sexually active. My daughter-in-law is on board to take her to her doctor."

"B, stop," Steph moaned, turning backwards into the couch and burying her face in the cushions. Drake had bent over double, his face covered in his hands.

"No, no, keep going," Arthur said with a playful smile for Wayne. "This is good. I like this." Wayne's eyes twinkled back at him.

"I've raised teenagers before," he said. "The sex talk gets easier with practice." Arthur snorted.

"I dunno, man, calling Deadshot seems pretty easy to me," he said.

"No Deadshot," Steph moaned, but it was muffled by the couch that she still had her face planted in.

"What was that, baby girl?" Arthur said. "I didn't quite hear you. Call Deadshot, you said? Have him kill your boyfriend?"

"Nooooo," she whined.

"He shot up our school," Drake said suddenly, raising his head to look Arthur in the eyes.

"You are such a fucking liar," Arthur said calmly, causing Steph's head to snap up and whirl around before he continued. "That was Mr. Freeze and you know it."

Wayne snorted. He must've known, Arthur realized, or else the kid wouldn't have said it and Wayne clearly hadn't called the cops - well, Harley said she'd gotten the commish in on it anyway, and -

"Oh," Arthur said, the lightbulb clicking. "Gordon's your daughter-in-law," he said, as he remembered that the police commissioner's longtime Bludhaven cop boyfriend was Wayne's oldest kid. "Very interesting," Arthur said with a slow smile.

"What?" Wayne said, looking slightly embarrassed and a little exasperated. "I didn't know anything about anything until after it was over. And still don't," he said, glaring at the kids but giving them a little wink out of the corner of his eye.

"Mm," Arthur said. "Suddenly I felt a little bit better about you raising my kid," he said.

"Wonderful," Wayne said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but he looked amused.

"They're not bullying you anymore?" Arthur asked Steph.

"Hell, no," she chortled. "They barely even talk to us. Which is great. Plus we made a couple friends."

"Well, you let me know if that changes," Arthur said. "Or if anyone else starts shit with you."

"Ok," Steph said softly, looking like maybe she actually meant it.

"Ok," Arthur said quietly. Wayne looked over at Steph.

"What do you think?" he said. "Enough for a first visit?" And the fact that he said first visit, like there would be more, dammit, Arthur hated the hopeful excitement that kicked up in his heart. Steph was nodding.

"Yeah. I guess we should get going," she said.

"Well," Arthur said, standing up, "anytime you want to come see me again, baby girl, I'm here," he said with a wry grin. "Unless I'm on a mission," he added, "but Waller will actually tell you that now."

"Ok," Steph said as she and the boyfriend and Wayne stood up, too, and that wasn't a no, so Arthur would take it. "Well. Um…"

"Do you want a hug?" Arthur asked her. "It's ok if you don't." God knows they hadn't hugged since she was probably in kindergarten.

"Um, yeah. I guess," Steph whispered, hesitantly coming forward. Arthur raised his arms up but stood still to let Steph decide how much to touch him, and it was kind of a loose hug at first, but then she suddenly squeezed him tight and started crying into his shoulder.

Oh, fuck, Arthur thought helplessly, but he automatically hugged her back tighter and held her while she sobbed. And dammit, he was crying now, too. Not as hard. But still.

"We'll wait outside," Wayne said softly, and Arthur nodded at him and narrowed his eyes one last time at the kid as they left the room, but Drake kind of half-laughed at him this time and shook his head.

But, oh, God, Stephie was crying in his arms, yeah.

"I miss mom," she blubbered out and that was when Arthur lost it, his chest shaking with sobs.

"I miss her too, honey," he finally said when he could catch his breath. "I mean, I know me and your mom fought like cats and dogs, but fuck, I never wanted this for her. I thought maybe she'd get off the oxy once I was locked up and then you two would be all right."

He sighed as Steph continued to bawl into his jumpsuit, but he rubbed her back and scrunched up her curly hair that had always amazed him, the way it grew in ringlets out of her little head when it first came in, so many years ago.

"I love you," Arthur said to her. "I know I've hardly ever shown it and I'm not much of a dad. But I love you and I'm here for you if you need me, ok baby?"

"Ok," Steph mumbled against his chest. "I love you, too," she said, and Arthur's heart almost stopped with shock. "Sometimes I hate that I do, but I do," she said, and there was his Stephie, always twisting that damn knife, Arthur thought ruefully, but it made him smile, too, because that was his kid. Sass Incorporated.

She was probably giving Wayne hell, now that Arty thought about it. The billionaire's hair seemed a little more gray today than it had in recent memory, and if that was thanks to Steph? That was pretty damn funny.

"Wayne's a good guy?" he asked her, though, just to check. "He treats you ok? Not a pervert?"

"Oh, my God," Steph said, laughing a little bit now and wiping her nose on her sleeve. "No, he's not a pervert. And yes, he's really nice," she said, a genuine smile breaking out onto her face, like it was full of good memories.

Which hurt. Jealousy, thy name is Arthur Brown, he thought wistfully, wishing it had been him who'd given his kid that smile. But Arty was enough less-of-an-asshole at this point to be glad that his kid was happy.

He was.

Even if it wasn't with him.

"And what about this boyfriend, huh?" Arthur said, chucking Steph lightly under the chin.

"I love him," Steph said. "I'm only ever going to love him. We're going to get married eventually."

"He wants that, too?" Arthur sighed, groaning deep in his soul.

"Yes," Stephie said, her smile growing and her eyes sparkling. "He's my best friend, Daddy," she said.

Was it a deliberate ploy that she'd called him Daddy when she said that? Arthur wondered. Fuck. Even if it was, it worked.

"Well," Arthur grumbled to hide the explosion in his heart, "in that case, you can get married before you ever have sex."

"Dad!" Steph groaned. "Oh my God."

"What? You want to be with him forever, blah blah blah, ain't no harm in putting a ring on it first," Arthur smirked. "Wayne's rich. It ain't like you gotta save up for a fancy wedding."

"You're unbelievable," Steph said.

"Unbelievably right," Arthur said proudly. "If your boy wants to be with my baby girl, he can man up first."

"Not your decision," Steph said drily. "Or your business."

"Think about it, at least," Arthur said with a teasing smile. "You might thank me one day."

"Uh huh," Steph said. "I'm pretty sure I'll thank you more for never having a conversation with me about my sex life again."

"Do get on birth control first," Arthur said, suddenly serious and gripping Steph's upper arms. "I mean it. I don't want you fucking your life up."

"Ok, Dad," Steph sighed. "That much, I will do."

"Ok, baby girl," Arthur said in relief, reluctantly letting her go. "I love you. Come see me again sometime. If you want," he added.

"I will," Steph said quietly. "I love you, too," she said. She hesitated. "I'm glad you're doing better," she said. "Your teammates, um, they seemed like they really respect you," she said.

"That's a nice way of saying they think I'm a stick in the mud," Arthur said drily, and Steph laughed.

"Maybe," she said. "I dunno. I just met them that one time. But… it makes me happy that somebody can count on you now," she finished in a whisper.

Arthur couldn't do more than tighten his lips into a tense smile and give Stephie a little head nod, or else he would've started crying again, but she seemed to understand, smiling softly back at him before walking out the door.

As it clicked shut behind her, Arthur let out a long breath. Maybe… maybe being a dad was still the best thing that had ever happened to him. Despite the bumps. It could hurt like hell, and God knows he'd made more than a few mistakes, but … fuck if he didn't still love his kid.

And knowing that she loved him too? Well. There wasn't actually one more damn thing that Arthur wanted out of life now that he had that, was there?

Except for wanting that rich kid to stay the fuck away from his daughter.

But you can't have everything, Arthur supposed. That was life.

And after all - he still knew Deadshot.

A/N - There is exactly ONE chapter left to go! Can you believe it? We're almost done!

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