Steph couldn't believe her eyes. She held her phone tight, like the device would cease to exist if she didn't. She re-read the headline again and again. She was just as giddy the eighth time as she was the first.
Cluemaster, AKA Arthur Brown captured!?
She finally, after much effort was able to read the article. It detailed basically everything she already knew; A bunch of things stolen, a bunch of stolen things sold, etc etc. This wasn't going to be good for him. This, this was going to land him in jail and KEEP him there. Stepth was so excited she swore she was shivering. Oh wait, she was. She smiled again.
"Heh, no one to stop me from turning the thermostat up now." She says, a mischievous tone to her voice as she kicks off of her bed and makes her way to the living room. As she finds and turns the thermostat to a temperature that humans can actually survive in, she thinks about how she can't wait to tell her mom when she gets off of work.
This... This is perfect. She's glad that she decided to trust the Arkham Knight and Robin. At that though, she frowns. They helped her, and said that if she still wanted to continue being a hero... Steph slowly walks back to her room. She's torn. Not about helping people, she's all for that, and just like she told the Knight, she's not going to stop. She's going to keep helping people.
What she's torn about is her mom. If something were to happen to her, her mother would be absolutely devastated. And she doesn't want that, not a single bit. As she walks back into her room and sits on her bed, she turns her head to look towards the closet, where her homemade superhero outfit was. Stephanie thinks. She really does. Is it worth it to help others, if she herself dies? If her mom has to suffer more because of that? She sighs, taking in a deep breath afterwards.
She knows what she has to do.
(...)
Lance would have preferred to stay asleep for the entirety of the weekend. The last few days, between examining multiple cases and trying to bring down Cluemaster (and yeah, the name sounded even dumber in his head) was beginning to take its toll. He knew, however, that if he stopped for even a second, Tim would start trying to solve every single case he had back-logged and then some more, just to prove a point.
He swears that the kid is just trying his patience at this point. Trying to make himself into such a menace that Lance will drop him off back home, to a lonely, miserable house (not a home, a house) and then he'd probably not even sleep at all and solve even more cases. Lance would say he's being paranoid - and a year ago he was definitely already more paranoid then even Bruce could be - but Tim has got him covered on paranoia. The young teen's plans have so many contingencies and back ups that even Bruce would be alarmed at all the possible situations Tim has prepared for.
So, as much as he'd like to rest for the weekend, he knows he can't. Tim alone requires that he drag his ass up out of bed. Lance yawns tiredly, and goes to smack his face hard. Movement by him makes him still for only a fraction of a second, before he remembers last night. Carrie was hurt; her left leg having caught a hit from a large pipe wielded by a brute who made the most wonderful noise when Lance punched him in the face. Repeatedly. Either way, when they got home, Lance took care of her leg and his daughter refused to leave his side.
He smiles as he looks down at her sleeping. She was snoring, but it was extremely light. Lance places a small kiss on her forehead. Carrie made a noise of contentment and Lance almost found himself laying back down. Still, as much as he loved his baby girl, he also had another kid in the house to take care of. Not for the first time, Lance regrets bringing them into the fold. But... Well, it was going to happen no matter what. With Tim's stubborn determination and Carrie's fierce tenacity, the two would have started fighting crime in some way sooner or later.
At least Tim hasn't been out in the field yet. He can work with that for now.
Lance silently groans as he carefully pulls himself out of bed. He goes and opens the door of his room, ready to head to the kitchen to fix breakfast (or lunch actually, based on the light hitting his windows) when the smell of coffee, ready and strong hit his nose. Lance heaves a heavy sigh as he walks down his hallway, leading him straight into the kitchen. Tim is sitting at the table, coffee in his hands while his attention is captured by his labtop. The bags of sleep around his eyes are dark, and Lance can't help the fact that he feels like he's failing hi - the kid.
Lance walks over quietly (as quiet as he can be on the anti-ninja floorboards - No Carrie, that's what they are CALLED) to the table and pushes the labtop closed. Tim jumps, and Lance resists the urge to chuckle. "Tim..." Lance starts, a serious tone to his voice "When was the last time you slept?" Tim, suddenly scrunches his face up.
"You told me to clean my room and then head to bed. It was around then." Lance widens his eyes in horror. "That was three nights ago!" He says worriedly, and Tim winches, as he goes to take another sip of coffee. Lance grabs the hand pushes the cup back to the table. Tim groans.
"Look I'll go to sleep as soon as I finish-" Lance pulls Tim up off of the chair, and half drags the protesting teen into his room. He pushes the door open with force, slamming it loudly against the wall. The sound makes Carrie flail wildly, her training seemingly both working and not working at the same time. Lance inwardly sighs. He needs to teach her how to wake up better. Faster.
"Tim, Carrie needs a sleeping buddy." Tim whips his head to look at him as Carrie yawns loudly, rubbing at her eyes.
"She what?"
"I wuh?"
The kids say at the exact time, though Carrie is still burdened by sleep. To her credit however, the young girl, eyes still half closed, reaches her arms out into a 'gimme my brother' gesture, and Lance pushes Tim over to Carrie. "She needs sleep and rest, you need sleep and rest. Both of you make sure the other is sleeping. That's your mission, and there will be no failure." Lance says, in an impressive mockery of Bruce. Carrie, still tired merely nods her head as she pulls Tim close.
The older boy lets out a small noise of protest, but otherwise stays silent. As planned, he doesn't want to wake Carrie up, and therefore is going to stay in the room. At least until she falls back asleep. And hopefully Tim will be so tired that he'll drift off as soon as his head hits the pillow. Lance smiles softly to himself, as Tim does indeed fall asleep (he's fairly certain at least) once he lays his head down.
Quietly, Lance makes his way out of the room. He's got a bit to do today and hopefully the kids will stay down for at least a few hours. Carrie, even after almost two years of training still sleeps pretty deeply, so there's no worries of her getting up just yet. Lance figures that it's time to take care of his tasks, starting with paying another kid a visit.
(...)
Steph was actually kind of bored. After watching TV for an hour, and realizing she didn't want to watch more soaps nor cartoons, she went to her phone. But that too, quickly passed into more of the same stuff she always does.
Her mother is working a double today, from the afternoon until the early morning. This means she can go out tonight. She can hardly wait, her nerves are on fire and she's so excited that she's ready to burst. She's researched some easy takedowns and is thinking about signing up for a martial arts program. Er, course? Class? Whatever, she'd figure it out later. As she's going over what she needs to do in her head - including getting another, more useful suit, Stephanie hears a knock at the front door.
She freezes. There's no deliveries today, nor is there any reason for one of her dad's buddies to come over. Steph took a deep breath and stalked her way over quietly to the front door. On her way, she managed to grab a kitchen knife, holding its grip tightly as she reached the front door. She was just shy of being able to see out of the peephole, and cursed her shortness. Reaching inside for bravery one more time, she steeled herself.
"Who is it? I'm armed and dangerous!" She hopes they didn't notice her voice squeaking slightly. There was a tense moment of silence before it broke. "Uh. The Arkham Knight." The modulated voice was muffled somewhat behind the door, but Stephanie heaved a heavy sigh, before undoing the latches and locks and opening the door. The Knight was in fact there, in broad daylight. Stephanie found herself staring gobsmacked at the man, who took a quick look left and right.
"Any chance you're gonna let me in?" He asks, and Stephanie smirks. "What, you actually a vampire? Can't come in unless I invite you?" There's a weird noise she can't make out from behind the mask, and the armored vigilante walks right past her.
"Hope that proves I'm human." He says in a mocking tone. Steph grumbles softly as she closes her front door and locks everything back up. She then turns to face the semi-sorta intruder in her home. He's turning his head slowly, seemingly judging her space. Her home. She growls softly, and the Knight instantly snaps his head back to her.
"You ok?" He asks, and Steph walks past him. "Just fine, it's not like I have a psychopath in my home." She heads for the kitchen (which is also the dining room and part of the living room), and the Knight follows her.
"Look, Stephanie, I don't know if you saw the news-" Steph turned her head quickly, cutting him off. "Yeah, you caught my dad." She says, and then chews her lips nervously. Whatever tension she just had towards him is gone.
"Thank you. But I'm not stopping. I'm going to keep saving people." The Arkham Knight folds his arms, and his eyes narrow with the slightest noise. She mimics his posture, and narrows her own eyes.
"Stephanie."
"Knight."
The two lock wills, and for nearly a minute, both of them just stare at each other. She never takes her eyes off of his mechanical ones. She's not showing weakness. She told herself what she's going to do, and, although she's nervous, she's not letting him talk her out of it.
"What's your plan then?" He asks, and Steph quickly starts talking.
"I'm siging up for some self defense classes. Once I manage to find some part time work, I can also save my money up and get myself more materials to stitch together a better outfit. I'm also going to start running more and getting more muscle and get in better shape." Steph quickly walks over to fridge.
"My mom's been wanting to diet lately, so I'll have plenty of extra food to snack on and gain some more weight which will hopefully make me less of a target." The Knight looks around casually into her fridge, and after a moment backs off. He tilts his head slightly.
"Huh... You've given this more thought than I realized." He mutters, and Stephanie scoffs. "Of course I have! I'm not a child, I KNOW this is dangerous. But I can handle it. I can help people." She says, making sure her voice is full of conviction. The Knight stares at her some more, before finally shaking his head.
"Fine. Fucking fine." He says quietly, almost inpercivable to her ears. He then sighs heavily. "Stephanie, your mom won't be back for a few hours right?" He asks. Steph glares hard at him.
"Why do you want to know?" She asks, her voice as harsh as she can make it. The Knight simply laughs. She's about to yell at him, before he raises one hand towards her, and another reaches for his helmet.
"I suppose introductions are in order." He says, as his free hand hits some buttons and pulls his helmet off. Blue eyes and blond hair are the first thing she sees. He's got a somewhat rugged face with a large scar on his cheek (in the shape of a J, Stephanie notices). She gulps softly, and raises her hand absent mindedly, taking his. He shakes it tightly.
"Lance Bruner." Steph takes a deep breath. "Stephanie Brown." The Knight - Lance, she reminds herself, chuckles. "Yeah, I got that." She too, softly laughs.
"So, since you showed me your face, that either means I'm not gonna live long enough to tell anyone, or..." Steph trails off, but Lance lowers himself until they're eye to eye. "Stephanie, if you absolutely insist you're going to do this, then I'm teaching you everything I can." He says, before standing back up.
"I'm also getting you actual armor. And tools to use other than bricks and whatever else you can find on the street." Stephanie feels like a computer, because she's about ninty percent sure she's shut down.
"Uh... What?" She asks dumbly. Lance just laughs, and points to the door. "How about we finish this conversation at the Asylum?" Steph scrunches her face up. "I'm not fucking crazy." She says, offended. Lance frowns, and then groans. "It's not - dammit, the Asylum is my hideout!" He says loudly. Steph inwardly smirks, but outwardly, she blinks in fake confusion.
"You live in Arkham?" For just a split second, barely a moment, there's a flash in Lance's eyes. She can swear the blue is brighter than normal. But faster than a blink, the look is gone.
"No, no... I uh, I call my hideout the Asylum." He shakes his head softly, and puts the helmet back on. "When we get there, I can go over everything you'll need to know. I'll also give you your new suit." Steph is about to ask where exactly the Asylum is, but then her brain catches up with the rest of his sentence.
"I... What suit?" She asks confused, and there's what sounds like a snort behind the voice modifier. "Want to see it?" And yeah, Steph really shouldn't leave the house, even if it IS with a kinda, sorta, maybe hero. But right now, her mind has dozens of possibilities throwing themselves around in her head. She smiles, though she hopes there's an edge to it. (She needs to keep the guy on his toes.) "Why not? If you kidnap me, at least I can see Robin again. She's cool." The Knight throws his head back laughing, before shaking it.
"Ah kid. You're gonna fit right in."
(...)
Lance knows this is breaking rule number one of the vigilante handbook. He can just hear Bruce in his head, telling him this isn't the way to do this. But he saw the look in Stephanie's eyes that night. He knew that, odds were, she wouldn't stop. She had probably become addicted; whether to the rush or to saving people, he didn't know. But that didn't matter much.
What did matter, was getting a suit made for her. Getting her trained and set up. It's not that hard to convince Joey of something, and since the younger man had also gotten Tim's suit ready (and God up above, please let that suit not see any use any time soon) it wasn't hard for him to also make another suit.
Lance leads Stephanie through the tunnels, her eyes wide and her brain running wild with questions. He elaborates where he can about the Court, but does try to keep some details to himself. Those were... Rough days. Dick had almost became one of those things. It wasn't a good time. Still, he enjoys the look on her face as she looks around, and once they entered the Asylum, she was absolutely awestruck. Not in the same ways that Carrie and Tim were, but she was still looking around the headquarters with a look of amazement on her face.
"Dude... This is sick as hell! How'd you cart all this crap through the sewers? How does that tunnel get topside? Does it go topside?" Lance holds back a laugh, before grabbing Steph by the shoulders and bringing her over to a nearby locker. "Stephanie, I'll be glad to-" Steph whips her head around.
"Call me Steph. Don't full name me, it's weird." Lance raises an eyebrow, but shrugs. "Alright then. Steph, I'll be glad to answer your questions later, but right now, I want to show you your suit." Her eyes only widen slightly as he guides her in front of a locker, and motions for her to open it. She looks at him for just a moment, before turning her attention to the locker. She swings it open and gasps.
There is a few similar attributes from her old suit. It's still purple, but a bit darker. It also has a face mask (made entirely of Depleted Promethium) and there's also a large, slim cloak (lined with the Promethium fibers Joey cooked up) but that's where it all ends. There's a lot of armor on and in the suit, made up of either Liquid Kevlar or Promethium fibers. Lance explains as much to her, pointing at certain areas on the suit.
"Try to not take any damage here or here. The joints are always weaker on armor like this; it's a side effect of having to put on and take off the suit." Stephanie doesn't even nod as he's talking, and eventually, he touches her shoulder. "Steph? You listening?"
The girl shakes her head softly, and there's what looks to be tears trying to form in her eyes. She opens her mouth a few times, but can't quite find the words she needs. Eventually she rushes forward and hugs Lance. Taken aback, he stands stock still for a moment. There's an awkward pause where Lance isn't sure what to do. Stephanie, after a few more moments, quickly backs off.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I just... This..." She takes another look at the suit, and then turns back to Lance. "It's just... Why do this for me? I'm not your kid like Robin, I'm just a dumb girl butting in." Stephanie whispers those last words, and Lance drops himself to a knee, until he's face to face with her.
"Steph. You are not my kid yes... But you are not dumb." He says carefully, thinking through what he can say. "You want to help people. And while I think you should be older than fourteen, I know that if I try to stop you, you'll go out alone." Stephanie smiles softly at that and nods.
"Yeah I'm... I'm going to help people. No matter what you say." Lance smiles at that, and then stands back up. "So, since you're going to do this, you're going to do this right. I'm going to train you. Six months of training." He says, and then tilts his head. "I'm also making sure you know how to grapple. That's pretty important. As well as throwing ranged weaponry." Stephanie takes a deep breath and gives him a thumbs up.
"Alrighty boss, when do we start?" She asks, a tinge of excitement to her voice. Lance laughs softly. "Right now Steph. You know the basics of fighting right." The young teen rolls her eyes. "Duh. Don't get hit and beat the shit out of the asshole trying to hit you." Lance's laugh isn't softly anymore. It's loud as hell.
"Close. The double D's Steph, Disarm and Disable." Stephanie blinks a few times, and then snorts. "The double D's?" She says, a wry smile on her face. Lance just shakes his head.
"It's a valid way to learn how to fight." He defends. Steph huffs, though he's pretty sure she's playing around. "It may be a valid way to fight, but it sounds like a bad name for a strip club." For just a moment, in front of him is Jason, saying the same exact thing. Lance shakes his head though, and Stephanie is in front of him instead, looking at him weirdly.
"You uh, ok?" She asks lamely, and Lance just nods. "Yeah, yeah I'm good." He then takes a deep breath. She won't end up like Jason. Like the rest of the family.
He swears it.