In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.
Yep, that's her.
It's pretty straightforward, all things considered.
One girl, in all the world, chosen to fight back against things that go bump in the night.
In this case, Stephanie Brown, from Los Angeles, California, aged 15, was Chosen, and granted by the mysterious Powers incredible strength, speed, reflexes, resilience, healing, and an uncanny ability to sense monsters.
One Slayer dies, the next is called, and the cycle starts again.
Stephanie Brown doesn't know anything about the Slayer who came before her. She's never really wanted to know.
She tries not to think about whoever is going to come after her, either.
(Maybe that was a mistake.)
After all the excitement that is averting the apocalypse and literally dying, summer seems to just fly by. It's relatively quiet in terms of vampires and demons, which is honestly, exactly the kind of break that Steph needs.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Duke says, tagging along with Steph as she continues her patrol of what seems to be the only multiplying Gotham cemeteries. Duke was only just back from his summer vacation with his parents, in New York City, where Duke had gone to nerdy summer camps and his parents had written papers with impressive titles.
Steph's own summer had been spent playing piano, training with Bruce, and hanging out with Harper, since Tim's parents had absconded with him to somewhere called Santa Prisca for an archaeological expedition.
"You were normal," Steph objects, squashing down her own guilt about the subject. "It didn't seem fair?"
"And Tim? Harper?"
"Are you calling those two normal?"
"... fine, I've got nothing. I'm still mad, though."
"Alright," Steph admits, swallowing her guilt and shoving her hands into her pockets.
"Are you ready for school to start?" Duke asks, and laughs when Steph lets out a loud groan.
"Never," she mutters. "My mom's threatening to ground me if I don't pull my grades up, too."
"Doesn't your mom know?"
Steph shifts, uncomfortable with the subject. "I mean, I've told her, but she's kind of convinced herself that I was in the middle of a nervous breakdown after my dad... well. After him. She saw things, I know she has, but... I think she's convinced herself she didn't see them." She shrugs. "And I don't really have time to deal with another extended hospital stay, so I'm not going to re-tell her anytime soon!"
"Steph..." Duke says. "You know that's messed up, right?"
"Yeah, well," Steph scuffs the grass over the grave plot where she's standing. "She's my mom. She's trying. Things haven't been easy for her."
"It hasn't been easy for you."
Steph touches her neck for a moment, where the mark of a vampire's teeth are still, barely visible.
"Yeah, well, I'm just glad I survived last year! No need to get down about things. I beat the prophecy! I got another summer!" Steph throws out her arms. "It's great, Duke. Really."
It's been a while since he's been to Gotham.
Gotham's an amazing place to be, really. There's something in the air that just makes it so... homey.
And now it's got its own Slayer.
He gets off the bus, the smell of blood thick in the air and sweet on his tongue He inhales sharply, trying to see if a Slayer in town has changed the smell of the town, but he can't sense anything different, except for a notable lack of Masky.
"Gee, Mister J," Harley, splattered in blood. "It's been so long since we were in Gotham! Is it good to be home?"
In truth, he's not from Gotham. He's not entirely sure where he's from, actually. He's been around for a while. Memories from before are all fuzzy around the edges, and he's not particularly interested in sharpening the image. Humanity isn't exactly something he misses.
But Gotham was where he met Harley, where he's had some of the best fun he's ever had. It's a good city to play around in, with the Hellmouths and all.
The Joker laughs and wipes blood away from the corner of her mouth. She beams up at him, like she always does. "You know it! We're going to have so much fun!"
Bruce calls her up at home, which he pretty much never does.
Steph, in a fit of pique over the summer, had assigned Bruce Vampire Ska as a ringtone, which had seemed funny at the time, but was significantly less funny when she was comfortable in her bed.
"Get to the library as soon as you can." He doesn't even have the decency to sound tired. She hates him so much.
"Bruce," Steph mutters, lowering her cell phone in order to check the time, and then holding it up to her ear again. "It's four in the morning." She'd only just gotten home from her patrol.
"A Greyhound full of tourists was discovered at the Sunnydale bus stop, with everyone and the driver killed."
Steph's mouth goes dry. "I'll be right there," she promises.
She grabs the first outfit she sees right out of her closet, and then climbs right out the window.
"What are we looking at?" She blurts out as she skids into the library. "Demons?"
Bruce is at the big table in the library, piles of books surrounding him. Tim, Duke, and Harper have all shown up already, which would be unfair, given Slayer speed, if she didn't live further away from school than them.
"I'm not sure yet," Bruce says.
Harper looks sick, slamming the lid of her laptop shut. "I hacked the GCPD to look at the photos... let's just. Not."
"Demons seem pretty likely, given the body count," Tim offers. He's gotten his hands on Bruce's Watcher Diary collection again, which Steph is pretty sure Bruce has told Tim at least ten times he's not allowed to have.
"It's worse than that," Jason declares, pushing the door open.
"Worse?" Bruce gets to his feet. Steph has only seen the two of them in the same room when she learned she was literally about to die, so she's pretty on edge right now, and refuses for feeling bad for the way she's glancing between them nervously.
"It's a vampire."
"None of them were exsanguinated, though!" Harper protests. "What kind of vampire kills a bus full of people and doesn't drink?"
"The Joker," Jason says.
Bruce drops the book that he's holding.
"Who's the Joker?"
"He's dangerous," Jason says. "Our best hope is that he's just passing through."
"What? No way!" Steph turns to face him. "He killed—"
"He'll kill you," Jason grabs her by the arms. "Trust me. Steph. Trust me. He'll kill you. You don't want him knowing there's a Slayer in town."
"I'm not just going to let him hurt people—"
"Stephanie," Bruce says. "If the Joker is really in town, you are not going to rush in un-prepared."
"She shouldn't be facing him at all!" Jason yells, finally releasing his grip on Steph's arms.
"She is the Slayer. She has a duty."
"She is right here!"
"Don't patrol tonight," Jason says, and it almost sounds like begging. "Blondie. Please. Just... stay inside."
Steph's hands curl into fists, not liking his tone. "You are so not the boss—"
"I'm asking," he says, and she's never seen him like this. His eyes are big, his breathing is ragged, and he looks... scared. "As your—as your friend. Please."
Steph goes still, staring up into his face, thinking over what he's said.
Is she friends with Jason? A vampire?
... yeah, she totally is.
Crap.
"Okay," she says, her shoulders slumping, and Jason lets out a breath he doesn't need to have taken in the first place in relief.
"I'll keep looking," he says, to the room at large, and then he leaves the way he came.
"Are all vampires that dramatic, you think? Or is it just him?" Harper asks.
"Just him," Bruce and Steph say at the same time.
Steph sighs, and falls into an available chair to try and take a nap.
Steph doesn't know what, exactly, Oswald Cobblepot has against her, but she knows it must be something.
Maybe he's related to an empty warehouse that burned down because a teenager was smoking in it?
The point is, it's only October, and Steph's grades are already pretty thoroughly in the tank, even with Duke and Tim helping her with her homework this year.
And her mom, for once, doesn't have a shift that overlaps parent-teacher conferences, so she's going to go to Steph's conference, and she's going to see that Steph is flunking everything, and then she's going to ground Steph again.
And to make matters worse, Steph's been volun-told to be on the decorating committee.
What kind of parent-teacher conference needs a decorating committee?
At least it makes keeping her promise to Jason pretty easy. She can't patrol if she's at the school, and if she's busy being killed by her mom, she won't be able to go out and hunt for weirdly-named-vampires.
"I think you did a pretty good job!" Tim says, looking around at the decorations and the buffet.
"Thanks!" Steph says, shoving a glass at him. "I made punch."
"How much sugar did you put in it?" Tim says, taking a sip.
Whoops. "It's... sugar free?"
Tim spits it out, making a face. "Steph!"
"Whoops?"
"This is awful, I'm going to go get some sugar for this," Tim says, wiping his mouth. "Don't let anyone drink this until I get back."
"But who will help me keep Oswald away from my mom?" Steph says, only slightly panicking.
"You'll have Harper, stop whining."
Steph gestures vaguely as Tim exits the school, and then groans as she sees Crystal Brown enter the school.
"Mom!" She runs up and hugs her tightly.
"There you are," Crystal hugs her back. "You were up bright and early this morning, weren't you?"
"Yeah, sorry," Steph says, as vaguely as possible.
"It's okay. I'm just glad I can see you here! I haven't been to one of your conferences in ages."
Steph's stomach sinks as she tries to think of which of her teachers might have something at least vaguely positive to stay about her.
The answer she comes up with is... not encouraging.
"Ah, Ms. Brown," Oswald says, and oh. That's not good at all. "Do you mind if I have a moment?"
Steph's stomach plunges down towards the very core of the Earth.
"I'm sure it will be fine," Harper says.
"I'm going to be grounded for a year."
"Don't you sneak out at night anyways?"
"Yes, but when I'm grounded, she takes my phone."
"Oh. That sucks."
The two of them stare towards the direction of the office where Oswald and Crystal Brown are meeting in.
"It was nice knowing you?"
"See if I save you next time."
The door opens and a very angry looking Crystal Brown emerges. Harper decides that discretion is the better part of valor and flees, leaving Steph alone to take the full brunt of a disappointed mother.
"Hi?"
"Car. Now."
Steph shrinks. She's taller than her mother—a mark of her father's legacy—but right now, she feels a lot smaller.
She's only made a few steps towards the door, mentally planning her text to Bruce to explain she won't be able to answer texts or calls probably ever again, when the doors fly open.
A man is standing there, his face painted in the bright colors of a clown, his hair dyed green, wearing a purple suit, and his vampiric teeth fully visible.
If the sight of a normal vampire is a handful of snow dropped down the back of her shirt to her vampiric senses, this man is like being drowned in an icy lake. She can't stop the gasp breaking out from her, the overwhelming feeling of him blotting out all of her other senses. Anyone could have snuck up on her, and she wouldn't sense them coming, because all of her attention is laser-focused on him.
Jason was right, without a doubt. Here was, in front of her, the most dangerous vampire she'd ever encountered.
"It's been so long!" The Joker declares.
"Run!" Steph yells.
She grabs her mother by the hand and leads all of the parents and teachers—including Oswald, of course—to the nearest classroom.
Tim gets the text from Harper about the Joker at the school, and he immediately turns around and goes to get Jason.
Jason's crypt continues to be one of the worst living situations that Tim's ever seen, and he had a brief stint in boarding school, where he witnessed dozens of pre-teen and teenage boys living without supervision.
But it's certainly easy enough to get to, so he hammers on the door of Jason's crypt, and mentally vows to get Jason a cell phone after this, because going to a graveyard in an emergency is not fun.
Jason opens up the door quickly enough.
"The Joker's at the school. And he's definitely looking for Steph."
If vampires could blanch, Jason would definitely do that right now, but as it is, Jason's eyes bug out more than a group of fruit flies who just learned that it was peach season.
"Let's go," Jason says. "Now."
The trip to the school is sped up by Tim's electric scooter, but really, Tim needs to buy a car, because arguing with a vampire about who has to hold on to whose waist is just ridiculous.
They break into the school through the roof, and take out three of the Joker's minions before they finally encounter the vampire himself.
"Slaaaaayer! Come out and plaaaaaay!" A blonde woman in a red and black checkered dress yells, carrying an axe and standing on a table.
"Harley Quinn," Jason breathes in Tim's ear. "She's nearly as dangerous as the Joker."
"I think she's hiding, Harls!" the Joker himself finally speaks. His voice is raspy, like he's swallowed an entire knife drawer, and he tosses his wavy green hair around. What kind of vampire is he? No ordinary person would look at him and think he was normal. "What do you say we smoke her out?"
"I've got an idea," Jason says. "Just play along."
Oh, this is going to suck.
Jason grabs him by the collar, yanks him around the corner that they're hiding behind, and yells. "Harley! Jay!"
"Jay Jay!" Harley Quinn yells, and, okay, what?
"Well!" The Joker says, and he's turning to face them now, and Tim recoils, despite Jason's grip, which has shifted to his hair, forcing him to be doubled down. "The prodigal kiddo returns!"
The Joker smells of stale blood, and he moves closer to embrace Jason.
"You're okay!" Harley says, standing on her tiptoes to press a hand against Jason's face, in a form of twisted affection. "We thought ya were dust!"
"Had some scores I had to settle, Harley," Jason says, and Tim watches, mesmerized despite the pain in his head, as Jason bends down to press a kiss against her cheek. Harley giggles loudly. "Sorry to worry you."
"I told her you were too tough to go dust!" The Joker slaps Jason on the back. "Now, what are you doing here? Have you met this new Slayer-Gal yet?"
"She's cute. Not too bright, though," Jason says, and there's something mocking and vicious in his voice that makes Tim, for the first time, scared of him. "Gave the puppy dog, I'm a tortured soul act. Keeps her off my back while I have my fun."
"The old Anne Rice routine!" The Joker crows. "Oh, that one's a classic, kiddo."
Tim struggles against the grip in his hair, remembering Jason's words. "I knew you were lying you—liar!"
Yeah, he deserves that eye roll from Jason there.
"Who's this then?"
"One of her flunkies," Jason says. "Thought he'd be a good appetizer." He yanks Tim forward, baring his neck to the Joker, and Tim's heart does its best reenactment of the chest burster from Alien. "Want a bite, old man?"
"Why so scared, Jay Jay?" Harley asks. "She's just a Slayer!"
"Scared?"
"Time was, you'd have killed her already, kiddo," the Joker says. "Now look at you. This tortured soul thing is an act, right? You're not actually housebroken?"
There's something dangerous there, lying beneath the surface, and Tim keeps himself very still.
"I saw her kill the Black Mask while barely able to stand up because of blood loss," Jason scowls. "But hey, you want to take her alone, be my guest. I'll just dine and dash." He shakes Tim painfully, and Tim can't stop his shout of pain.
"Don't be silly, kiddo!" The Joker says. "We're family. We'll do it together."
Tim shouts and tries to jerk away, but while Jason's eyes are on him, the Joker slams his fist into Jason's face.
"C'mon kiddo, you're one of mine. Did you really think you can fool me?" The Joker takes a step towards them, and Jason throws Tim backwards, away from danger. Tim hits the tile floor hard, and lies there for a moment, winded. "Guess you're not my kid anymore, huh?"
"Things change!"
"Uh-huh. Not us. Not demons." He sighs. "Harley!"
Harley steps forward, still holding her axe. "Sorry 'bout this, Jay Jay," she says, and Tim, from his position on the floor, thinks there are tears in her eyes. Can vampires cry? Is that a thing?
"Not as sorry as I am," Jason says, his voice soft for a moment.
Then he throws a table at Harley and runs, grabbing Tim as he goes.
"You're running?"
"Steph wouldn't let me live if I got you killed!"
The sound of fighting breaks out behind them.
"Steph's got this," Jason says, looking relieved, before shoving Tim out a window.
Lying on the ground outside of the school, Tim reconsiders his life choices.
"So when you were pretending to feed me to him, how come you didn't punch him before he punched you?"
"I couldn't make the first move, idiot," Jason says, landing perfectly as he jumps out the window. Tim really needs to hang out with normal people more. "I had to see if he was buying it or not."
"And if he bit me?"
"Then I would have known he bought it," Jason says, and he's got a smirk on his face. Jerk.
Tim props himself up on his elbows. "So. He turned you into a vampire, huh?"
Jason's smirk vanishes. "Don't tell Steph, okay?"
"Why not?"
"It's... what I was. What I did. Before the soul. It was bad, Tim. And... she doesn't need to know that stuff. She's got enough going on."
"She won't be mad at you."
"Worse," Jason says, helping Tim up. "She'll feel sorry for me."
Tim sighs. "Okay. I won't tell."
Jason grins at him slightly.
"I am telling her that you nearly fed me to a vampire, though."
"Yeah, okay, fair."
Why is it that air vents are never as large as they seem to be in the movies? Bruce Willis never had to deal with this.
Steph hears voices below, and one of them is obviously the Joker's, so she grips her sword (thank God for emergency locker stashes) tightly and lets herself fall out of the ceiling.
The Joker is there, without any weapons, and his sidekick is nowhere to be seen.
"Slayer," he greets her. He licks his lips. "You know... last time I killed one of you... she begged. Do you think you will?" He takes a step closer.
"Sorry, you're not my type," Steph says. "Like, really not my type." She swings her sword at him.
He's good, that's what's terrifying. He moves fast, and he's strong, and no matter how many hits Steph dishes out, he just takes them and takes them, and then throws the plates back at her.
Okay, maybe she lost control of that metaphor there, but the point is, Steph's losing.
And not just a little.
The Joker throws her against a wall, and Steph's head slams against the concrete blocks and she falls to the ground, dazed.
"Mmm, less good than I hoped," the Joker muses. "No point turning you, I think. You sure you're the Slayer? That doesn't sound right."
"Get the hell away from my daughter!"
That's when Crystal Brown hits the Joker with an axe.
"Mom!" Steph gets to her feet in an instant, recovered and ready to kill anyone who so much as looks at her mother.
The Joker lets out a laugh.
"Maybe not! See you around!"
The sound of glass shattering fills Steph's ears as the Joker makes his escape.
"Mom?" Steph asks.
"No one lays a finger on my little girl," Crystal says, looking for all the world like Ellen Ripley, but with an axe.
"That was awesome," Steph says fervently.
"I'm just glad you're okay," Crystal says, dropping the axe and hugging Steph tightly.
Steph hugs her back tightly.
"Uh, so... what did you and Mister Oswald talk about?"
"Oh, he said you were a troublemaker. But I don't care. I've got a daughter who's strong and brave and can look after herself. She's brave and resourceful, and thinks of others when there's a crisis. No matter who you hang out with or what dumb teenage stuff you think you have to do, I'm gonna sleep better knowing all that."
"So I'm not grounded?"
"You get a reprieve."
"Yes!"
There's a new student, and Tim definitely has a crush.
"I just like his jacket!"
"Uh-huh," Steph says. "Then why are we at the Cave, listening to his band play?"
Young, But Just Us is... okay, Steph supposes, even if their songs are a little heavy on "Screw the system, but Screw my dad in particular." Which is a solid theme, but Steph would like a little variety.
But she has to admit "My Dad's A CEO, Of Course He's Evil" is a pretty catchy song.
Conner Kent is a dark haired, punk looking guy with a penchant for very tight jeans and hair gel.
He's cute enough, Steph supposes, but she doesn't entirely get what the fuss is about.
"Hey broody," Steph greets, walking into the cemetery.
Jason, unlike the rest of them, hasn't changed a bit over the summer. He's even still wearing the same hoodie.
"Don't call me that," he says, broodily, stubbing out his cigarette on the grave he's sitting on.
"Fine," Steph rolls her eyes, but hands over the ziplock bag of pig's blood she'd grabbed from the butcher's that evening, just as they were closing. They're used to it by now, and she doesn't get questions. There are no questions, not in a town like Gotham, not for a girl with an overly bright smile who brings kids home safe from school. "Here you go, Red Hood."
The Red Hood makes a face at his official title, but accepts the blood, flicking his cigarette against the ground and pressing his heel against it to snuff out any remaining spark. "You know I hate that name."
"Jason, then," Steph says, exasperated. No one ever told her that vampires were so… fussy. Jason usually was in a worse mood than usual, too. "What have you got for me?"
Steph isn't sure when Jason started getting angrier than usual, but it's got her on edge.
Jason shakes his head. "The Joker is still on the loose. I really thought that he'd have left town by now."
"And that sidekick of his, Harley Quinn," Steph points out. Jason flinches, but he's subtle about it, and one of these days, Steph will get that story out of him.
"How's your Watcher?" Jason asks, tucking his bag of blood into his jacket. Steph wonders if they've ever exploded there, or if he's very careful.
"I'm not telling you anything," Steph says, any trace of her good mood dusted like vampires in the sunlight. "Not until one of you explains what's going on."
Jason stays quiet, just like Bruce does whenever she broaches the Red Hood to him.
Bruce gets weird every time she passes along Jason's information. Normally, she wouldn't blame him—the Red Hood is an infamous and dangerous vampire, before he got a soul... somehow. Steph's never gotten a clear answer on that one.
But Steph doesn't think that Bruce is uncomfortable around Jason because of his kill count. She never has. Because Jason acts about Bruce the way that Bruce acts about Jason.
Which is to say—weird as hell.
Tim has been operating as the substitute Computer Science teacher at Gotham ever since the Black Mask's hench-vampires brutally murdered their last one. It's not official or anything, and Tim's kind of a horrible teacher, but with Harper's help, the two of them have managed to loosely guide the class through the curriculum.
But still, when the word comes that the school has finally managed to find someone to take the job, the only tears that are shed in the library are joyful ones.
Surprisingly, though, Steph first meets her in the library, when she's swinging by first thing in the morning to drop off her favorite sword for a sharpening. Bruce is usually pretty strict about her taking care of her own weapons, but this sword requires a special whetstone that Bruce doesn't trust her with, so as long as she keeps it clean, he sharpens it for her.
This might play a role in why it's her favorite sword.
But as she makes her way into the library, carrying a trombone case that Harper lent her to transport her larger weapons in—no one in school has mentioned that Steph isn't in band, which is either very nice or very oblivious of them—she stops dead in her tracks.
There's an adult in the library.
And that just doesn't happen.
Bruce doesn't have friends, especially not amongst the other teachers. Maybe he has a social life outside of the library and Watcher-ing, but Steph has seen no evidence of this. The man doesn't even have a Snapchat, which means he's still blissfully aware of some of the selfies that Steph has taken with demons that were trying to kill her at the time.
(Harper has threatened to tell Bruce about them, which Duke, Steph, and Tim agree makes Harper the narc of their group.)
But all of this leads to how the woman standing in front of Steph is completely out of place in the library.
She's on the shorter side, with glossy black hair, and is wearing a pencil skirt and a deep green shirt with loose sleeves. That's all Steph can really tell, because the woman is facing away from her, arguing with Bruce.
"This town isn't safe," Bruce is saying hotly.
"And it is safe for you? Or the Slayer?" The woman tosses her hair over her shoulder, a technique so practiced and refined that Steph wishes she had filmed it to study later. "You forget; I am hardly helpless."
Bruce opens his mouth to respond, but is side-tracked by looking over the woman's shoulder and seeing Steph, who is absolutely eavesdropping, but is also completely shameless on that subject, because a teacher's social life is only one of the greatest pieces of gossip she can ever gets her hands on, and this is her Watcher's social life, at that.
... also, this woman clearly knows about magic and monsters and Slayers, so there's that.
"Stephanie," Bruce says. "You're early."
"I just had some... books. To return."
"Books," Bruce repeats.
"In a trombone case? That can hardly be good for their spine."
The woman's voice is rich and deep, her accent the kind of polished, grammatically perfect, way that indicates the kind of education that... well, that Bruce has, and Steph looks at her as she turns around.
"Talia al Ghul," the woman introduces herself, smiling elegantly. "I am the new Computer Science teacher at this institution."
"Oh! Nice to meet you," Steph says, accepting Ms. al Ghul's hand when offered. The way she offers it somehow manages to imply that Steph should probably be bowing and pressing it against her forehead, but that just might be because of the sheer poise with which she conveys herself. "I'm—"
"Stephanie Brown. The Vampire Slayer. Yes, I've heard a great deal about you."
Steph drops the woman's hand quickly, and looks at Bruce for reassurance.
"Talia is an old acquaintance of mine," Bruce says, doing his best impression of having the emotional reaction of a rock. He's failing, but the effort is there. If this isn't an old bonfire, or at least an old flame, Steph will eat Harper's trombone slide.
"So you're with the Council?" Steph asks, not sure if she likes that. Any organization that employed her dad...
Well.
She's not exactly predisposed to be a fan, to say the least.
Talia laughs. "No, not at all." She smiles. "I'm a techno-witch."
"Is that like a techno-pagan?" Steph blurts out, because Tim has been talking about dabbling in that field.
"I'm not a pagan, so, no. However, my magic does work best through technology, and so, despite the religious disparity, there are many similarities."
"Oh. Well, I think Tim's Jewish?"
Why does she ever open her mouth?
Talia smiles indulgently.
"I'm sure you have classes soon."
"Right. Um." She puts Harper's trombone case on Bruce's desk and runs away as fast as if she's seen...
Well, as if she's just seen her Watcher's ex show up out of the blue and accidentally interrupted a conversation between them.
She doesn't really have a good metaphor for this one, she just knows she's booking it.
Talia is a pretty great teacher, so Tim and Harper are breathing a lot easier. Talia's shown up at the library a few times to give advice, or to help translate a few ancient documents about the Joker from Classical Arabic.
It's on one such occasion, Talia carefully typing out her translation of a description of a slaughter-field on her sleek silver laptop that seems to be devoid of any branding at all, that Jason shows up.
He's been getting better, lately, about coming in through the doors, rather than appearing out of the maintenance tunnels, and so he throws open the swinging doors dramatically, his leather unzipped, his hair dramatically tousled, when he draws up to a halt.
"Talia?" He asks, his voice suddenly softer than Steph has ever heard it.
"Jason," Talia says with a faint, sad looking smile.
For the first time ever, Steph stops to consider how long Jason's been a vampire.
Because if he knew Talia al Ghul... who can't be older than... forty? Maybe? Possibly somewhere in her thirties?
That means that Jason has to be pretty young, especially considering how dangerous and powerful he was supposed to be, before he ended up with the soul that gave him one of the most potent cases of kicked-puppy eyes that Steph has ever seen.
Steph looks away, unsure of what to do about this.
When she looks up again, Jason is gone.
"I'll go after him," Steph says, grabbing her bag and making a run for it.
Because Jason is her friend, and he's clearly upset, and that's... not a good feeling, if she's being honest with herself.
She finds him in a graveyard; not the graveyard where his weirdly morbid bed-crypt is, but instead, one in the nicer part of town.
He's sitting with his back against a grave, a cigarette hanging listlessly from his fingers, staring into the air, his expression placing itself solidly in "brooding" territory.
He looks... young. Steph doesn't know how she feels about any of it, about any of this.
"Jason?"
"Blondie. What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. Scoot over."
He moves over, but it's clearly reluctant.
"You know Talia?"
Jason snorts, bitter. "You could say that."
Steph sighs. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she admits. "But Jay... I know something's up. I know you've seen my grades and all, but I'm not stupid."
"I don't think you are."
"Then stop acting like you do!" Steph snaps. "I know something's up, and it's got to do with Bruce and the Joker and you, and now apparently Talia is involved, and I know you've told Tim at least something, but you're not being honest with me!"
Jason gets to his feet, tossing his cigarette to the side.
"Stand up, Blondie."
"What, are we fighting? I'm warning you, I'll kick your ass."
"Just shut up and do it."
Frowning, Steph gets to her feet.
"Turn around."
"If this is you trying to bite me, I've heard better pitches."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"You really should know the answer to that better by now."
Jason's sigh is almost as funny as Bruce's. "Just... do it."
She does, and then stops in her tracks.
She had been leaning against a gravestone; she knew that. It wasn't the first time that she had done so. She had far less respect for cemeteries than most people as an unfortunate side-effect of nearly dying in them on a daily basis. She's bled all over flower arrangements, used a headstone as a bludgeon, used abandoned shovels to stake vampires, and tripped and fallen into pre-dug graves.
She hadn't even stopped to think before sitting down. Hadn't even thought to look to see who, exactly, Jason and her were sitting on top of.
No one, was the answer.
Because the headstone read: HERE LIES JASON TODD, BELOVED SON OF BRUCE WAYNE.
The dates are only a decade ago.
"... you're Bruce's kid?"
"Adopted," Jason says.
"He's a Watcher," Steph says, her lips numb. Jason had been seventeen. "He should've... he should've known that—"
"That I was coming back?" Jason's laugh is bitter and heavy. "He wasn't in town. He was on assignment from the Council, and I was staying with my birth mom. The Joker came to town and threatened my mom. I tried to fight him. Got turned. By the time Bruce came back, we were long gone."
Steph swallows. She doesn't ask after Jason's mom. She's heard similar enough stories, over the years.
"Went on a bit of a rampage. Killed a lot of people. Killed a Slayer. Then, eventually, I fought with the Joker, went my own way." He shrugs. "Killed some people I shouldn't have. Brought me to the attention of Talia. Talia knew me from back in the day; used to date Bruce and all. She managed to get her hands on one of the most powerful anti-vampire curses in history."
"She gave you a soul. That's a curse?"
Jason snorts. "Blondie. I remember everybody I've killed. I have to deal with that. Every single, stupidly long, day. I can hear their screams, every time I fall asleep. Every time I look at someone, I think about how much they look like someone who I ate. I nearly killed my dad more times than I can count, because the idiot wouldn't just... Yeah, it's a curse."
"Oh."
Jason snorts. "Yeah. Oh."
"So the Joker knows you?"
"He's my sire."
Steph stares at Jason's grave. "He's going to kill me, isn't he?"
"I'm not going to let that happen."
"I don't think either of us is going to get more of a choice about it." She puts her hand on his arm. "Thanks. For telling me."
"You were right. You deserve to know. It's not like the Joker's going to keep his mouth shut."
"I should get back," Steph sighs. "Bruce will want me to patrol."
"I'll join you. I should... I should thank Talia. I guess."
"And talk to Bruce?"
"Don't push it, Blondie."
"Oh! I just realized! How old are you?"
"Twenty eight."
"No, you're seventeen!"
"I'm not—"
"How long have you been seventeen?"
"I'm going to kill you."
"A while!"
"I'm going for the record, I'm going to kill more Slayers than anyone, I swear to God—"
So Steph is definitely straight.
This kind of sucks, if Harper is being honest with herself, because Steph is really cute, and to be honest, she looks even better when her hair is tousled and she's carrying a big weapon, and Steph is both of those things very frequently.
But Steph is straight! And that's okay!
It just means that Harper needs to get over it, so she says yes when Claire Clover asks her out on a date.
Later that night, tied to an altar as a human sacrifice, Harper wonders if she should raise her standards just a little bit.
"Let me get this straight," Steph says, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand.
"There's nothing straight about this situation," Harper pipes up, enjoying all of this too much. Tim makes a very rude gesture at her. Duke gives her a high-five.
"So the hot guy you have a crush on—"
"That's me," Conner Kent says, shameless and shirtless. Steph refuses to look at him, because she's not entirely sure he's not pant-less as well, or if the scraps of denim are from his jean-jacket, or his pants.
"He's a werewolf."
"Admittedly, that one's a surprise to me as well."
"And you found this out, locked him in the book-cage..."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time!"
"And now he's your boyfriend, he's naked, and he's destroyed at least one of Bruce's valuable books, which you left in there, because you stole them out of his office, and you can't find the key to the cage."
"Correct!" Conner gives her a thumbs up, completely unashamed about his own nakedness.
Tim's face is buried in his hands and his ears and neck are approximately the color of a tomato. "Can you fix this?" He says, his voice muffled.
"You owe me. So much."
"I know."
"I really want to know why you're not more freaked out by me being a werewolf, honestly," Conner admits, lounging against the bars of the book cage. "But I think that can wait until I've got pants. And maybe a shirt."
Steph points at him. "You. Turn around."
"This is discrimination," Conner complains, even as he does what she says.
"I am going to break you out of a metal cage with my bare hands, just do what I say."
"... can't you just go get the spare key?" Duke asks, his chin propped up on his hand as he surveys the scene.
"Why would I do that when I can bend metal bars?"
"You can do what?" Conner demands.
"You'll see," Tim says, blushing faintly, averting his eyes away from his very naked boyfriend.
"So does this make you a furry?" Duke asks Tim, looking far too amused about the situation. "Or is only Kon the furry, and you're just very accepting—"
"I hate everything," Steph declares to no one in particular, before going to see how much damage she can do to Bruce's book cage.
"This Slayer's a weird one, Mister J," Harley says. The taste of blood is heavy on her tongue and sour in the back of her throat, but she's used to it by now. The first time Mister J had shown her what it was like, she had been sick. Now it's easier than anything, and he likes that.
She lowers her binoculars, frowning. "She's got friends, Mister J. I thought those Watcher people don't like that happening?"
"They don't," he says, all relaxed and comfortable in the shadows. The body of their dinner is at his feet, still moaning quietly. "That's interesting."
"Our Jay Jay is one of them. He's hanging on to every word she says, like she's some sort of..." Harley gestures vaguely with her hands.
"He's not our kid anymore, Harl," Mister J says. He reaches out and cups her face in his hands, all gentle-like, and Harley melts, knowing that she's still his girl, no matter how long it's been. "He's all shiny and bright now, got himself a soul, so he doesn't need us anymore."
"Oh," Harley says, soft. She misses Jason. It was a lot easier to handle Mister J when he was around. They all worked so much better as a family, see, and it's just not the same without him.
"Don't worry, doll face! I've picked out a new kid for us. We just need to be a little patient."
"Really, Mister J?" Harley says, clapping her hands. "You mean it?"
"Of course I do! Now, take dinner here back to the cellar, okay? I think we've got one more meal out of him yet."
Harley kisses him on the cheek and skips over to him. He's got bite marks on his arms and his neck, but Harley's put her old medical degree to good work and bandaged him up all nice. Only the two fresh ones are bleeding, sluggishly, but the smell of it fills the air.
"Please," he begs. "Let me go."
"Can't do that, sugar," Harley says, patting him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Doctor Quinn is going to look right after you, okay?"
She picks him up easily, and takes him downstairs, humming to herself.
"I'm telling you, it's a bad idea, Blondie," Jason says.
"He's your dad. He misses you!"
"He's an asshole."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"It's not happening, okay? It's fine as things are."
"You're living in a crypt, Jason."
"I'm a vampire, it's an aesthetic choice."
"It's a bad one. Like that hoodie you wear." Steph sniffs. "Couldn't you at least wear leather pants, if you're going for the brooding vampire look?"
"You wish I would wear leather pants."
"Not really, I just think it would be funny."
"Jeeze, way to stake my fragile male ego."
"It needs staking. Even Tim and Duke's need staking, every now and then—and wow, that sounded cleaner in my head."
"Did it really?"
Steph shrugs. "Probably not."
He laughs, a sound that she's hearing more and more often, these days, which is good.
"Well, if you're not going to go visit your dad, will you at least consider sparring with me?"
"It's a bad idea."
"No, it's a great idea! You're as strong as I am, I won't have to worry about breaking you!"
"You mean you won't feel guilty about kicking my ass."
"Tim whines so much, Jason," Steph says, doing her best effort at puppy eyes, but he just laughs at her.
"Do you need a ride? You should probably be getting back." Jason had managed to get his hand on a over the top red sports car recently, and he was using every opportunity to rub in the fact that Steph had failed her driver's test again. Nevermind that Jason is legally dead and he doesn't have a license either, but he won't let her drive, which would be massively unfair if the car wasn't a manual.
Steph shakes her head, making a face at him. "You know, I'm going to pass that test eventually."
"I'll believe it when I see it, Blondie."
Steph puts her hands in her pockets, and walks back towards the school. She needs to check in with Bruce, and then check her winter weather Slaying gear, before winter starts in earnest.
Winter in Gotham sucks, in Steph's unbiased opinion. As a California girl, she's still not sure how she's supposed to react when confronted with all of this ice, sleet, and occasionally snow nonsense. It's not like vampires take a break from hunting and eating during the winter, so it means that Slayers don't get a break either.
At least, that's what Bruce says, and Steph guesses she has to listen to him, at least on this subject.
She's almost at the main road when the attack comes.
Her assailant is short and thin, wearing an ancient looking puffy black parka, and she slams into Steph with vampiric speed.
The second she hits Steph, Steph's senses go haywire, her entire body becoming alive with nerve endings, the entire world becoming brighter and sharper.
The first hit lands. The second hit doesn't. Steph catches her punch and kicks out at her, forcing the vampire away from her.
It's the kind of fight that Steph has nightmares about. The vampire, who looks to be about Steph's age, is faster and stronger than her, and Steph knows that if she doesn't think fast, she's going to end up dead.
Steph feints right and makes a move to go left where she can hopefully make it onto the road and get to the school, but the vampire doesn't fall for it and darts forward, grabbing Steph's throat with a death grip that's already squeezing the breath right out of her.
And freezes.
Steph struggles, clawing at the vampire's supernaturally strong grip, her heart racing as she fights to keep the oxygen in her system.
Suddenly, the vampire drops her, and Steph lands painfully on the ground, gasping for air.
"Who are you?" The vampire demands.
"You attacked me! That's my question!"
The vampire crosses her arms. She's pretty, that's Steph's first thought as she rubs at her neck. Pretty, with dark hair in a bob cut, and scars across her cheek and neck.
"I am Cassandra. The Vampire Slayer."
"What?"