'Cause I don't know where you're going
But do you got room for one more troubled soul?
I don't know where I'm going but I don't think I'm coming home
And I said I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead
This is the road to ruin
And we're starting at the end
~Alone Together, Fall Out Boy
He grabbed himself another beer from the fridge. He never drank. Except for this one day a year. He would drink himself into a stupor, trying to forget all of the pain. He sat on the sofa and stared emptily out into the space that was home to the only picture in his entire apartment.
He kept a single flower below the image. He would replace the small purple flower regularly. He wouldn't tolerate a dying flower to sit so close.
His apartment was a mess. Empty take-out cartons sat beside the sink, unable to fit into the overflowing garbage can. Grime built up on the appliances and handles to the items that he touched every day. A layer of dust fell over the floors and the furniture. The only place clean was his bedroom and the spot on his sofa where he would always sit. But even the bedroom wasn't clean; the bed hadn't been slept in for years, instead sleeping in a sleeping bag he dragged there from one of his safe houses.
A wedding band hung around his neck on a golden chain. The matching gold one rested on his left ring finger, permanently. He couldn't bear to be apart from it. It was the last remnant of her. He kept it under his shirt and never took it off. He would keep her in his heart that way. He only pulled out the chain on this date. To remind himself that she was real, and here, and loved him.
He finished his second beer. It was only seven at night, but the sun had set and darkness had settled over the city streets. It seemed a similar darkness had settled around him. He no longer talked on his phone to other people, except when it was a dire emergency, but he never did call. He had tried to maintain the nightly patrol jobs, but he was half removed from duty, half given up. He worked in a bar in a poor part of town. The pay was bad and the tips worse, but he couldn't go back into that corporate sky rise again.
He fingered the ring. His thumb ran over the engraving on the inside. He felt as the tears welled up in his eyes. He could still feel the pain. He was not yet drunk enough.
Outside there was gunshots as the two rival gangs fought over his block, again. Normally he would have dragged out the old black mask and red tunic, but not tonight. Tonight, he in remembrance.
It was a cold night. But it was late in November so it wasn't that unusual, but that night it was cold. It was his job to patrol the west side. It was being exceptionally volatile in the recent weeks. Originally she was supposed to patrol there, but he vetoed that. Being her husband had at least some advantages. Although he knew that the moment that they would get back home he would get chewed out for it and she would win that one.
In his defense they were still technically newlyweds. They had recently come back from their honeymoon and dived back into the action. Personally he would have liked a bit longer before getting in the suits again. And he would have liked for her to not get into that suit ever again.
But that would never happen. And he knew it.
He was surprised at just how quiet the west side was that night. There wasn't any sort of disturbances that he could see throughout the entire side. It seemed as if everyone knew that he would have rather been at home lavishing attention to his wife.
A smile spread underneath the dark cowl. They had only been married for a month and a half. And he couldn't imagine living without her. Sure there were things that he still needed time to get used to. One example was the way she brushed her teeth. She always left the toothpaste tube open and squeezed from the middle. It wasn't bothersome at first, but one morning he walked in and accidently got toothpaste all over his pajamas. The fight that followed wasn't the worst they had, but it was the first one as a married couple.
"Status reports," Oracle voice crackled over the comm.
"North side is clear."
"Same in the east."
He grit his teeth when he heard the brat's voice coming through the comm. It wasn't like he hated the kid, but the kid didn't really like him. And it wasn't because he wasn't a 'true son'. He didn't like the kid's attitude. He tried to be courteous when they were together, but the kid made it so hard. But the thing was, the kid grew on him. He was the little brother that he never wanted but got anyway. An annoying little brother who could kill you in over a hundred ways, but a brother.
"How's the west over there?"
"Surprisingly, everything's quiet."
"You don't sound disappointed."
"I'm not. I get to home with my wife and spend the evening with her." His smile grew even larger.
"Ugh, spare me the sappy details." The whiney voice broke through his happiness.
"Actually, that's going to have to wait. I'm having a bit a problem over her in the south," his wife said.
His heart stilled and his blood ran cold. He didn't want to hear this. He traded patrols with her to protect her, if only one last time before she had enough and kicked his ass back into its place.
"We're on our way," he muttered and started running across the rooftops.
The entire time he was in the air racing to get to her location on the south side his heart was pumping and adrenaline coursed through his system.
When he arrived at the rooftop where she was, the fight was over. And not it in any good way. Some thugs were running away towards their getaway vehicles parked on the streets. He started to go after them, thinking that that would be the way that his wife would be going. She liked to be in the middle of the action. He was nearly to the edge of the roof when he heard his name being called.
"Tim."
He spun around. She knew better than to speak real names out in the field. But if she was asking for him by name that must mean that something really bad had happened. He expected her to be standing there holding something that would reflect their situation. But he didn't see her. There was no one there except the thugs that were knocked to the ground. His eyes scanned through them.
"Honey, here." A gloved hand raised above the rest of the thugs on the ground.
Tim fled over to his wife. He gripped her purple hand and quickly looked over her for the injury. Her blonde hair was flung all over the place. Tears in the fabric of her costume exposed skin. But his heart nearly stopped when he saw a large stab wound to her abdomen.
"Oh god." Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He pressed his free hand tightly against the bleeding wound. She let out a small gasp.
"It still hurts. That's a good thing right?" She tried to pass off the joke.
"Hush, I need to assess the damage." He lifted his hand for a moment. The bleeding began with renewed furor. "Well, shit."
She gave her husband a slight slap on the arm. It was meant to be a playful slap and wasn't supposed to hurt, but he could tell her strength was fading fast. He activated the homing beacon on his utility belt. He also turned on his comm.
"Guys, we have a serious problem here. Batgirl's down-"
"Fault of her own doing-"
"Shut up Damian. I need medical equipment here stat. Batgirl's been stabbed, and I-" his voice cracked, "-I don't know how long she can hold out."
Tears were beginning to leak out from under the mask now.
"Aww, you're voice hasn't cracked like that since you asked me to marry you. It's adorable," she whispered, strength fading fast. Her bright blue eyes clouded over.
"No, you have to fight it. Come on now, we all know that you can. Don't close your eyes on me now. Come on sweetie, I need you to stay awake."
Her blue eyes opened. Her hand raised itself and rested on his cheek. She gave him a half a smile.
"You're cute when you're worried." Her eyes closed once again.
"No, Batgirl. Bat-Steph. Steph! Don't leave me! I love you! I freaking love you, dammit!" He was openly crying now.
"I… Love… You… Dork." Her eyes didn't open again.
"Steph, Steph, St-" He couldn't continue anymore. His tears had completely blurred his vision now and he could care less. His hand left her abdomen and wrapped around her body. He pulled her in close, sobbing into her blonde hair. He didn't care whether people saw him, good or bad. All he knew was that it felt as if his heart was being ripped out of chest and squeezed right in front of him. There was an emptiness in him now and it wouldn't be filled.
He stayed in that position, sobbing until the rest of his family came to his side. There wasn't a dry eye on the roof. Even the demon child's were suspiciously wet.
Tim wiped away the tears that betrayed him. Nearly a decade ago that was. It still hurt like the moment when he found her lying on the rooftop bleeding out that cold night. He still felt like someone had dunked his entire body in ice water when he thought about it.
Knock, knock.
His head turned towards the door. Who would be knocking at his door? Dick had a spare key, so he would just walk in. Bruce would have knocked before just coming in. The demon wouldn't be there in the first place, and Jason would probably just kick down the door or something.
Knock, knock.
There it was again. Tim set down his drink and looked at the door. He was puzzled. These knocks were more hesitant than last time. Whoever they were, they hadn't been there before. They didn't know that he was to be left alone today.
When the knocking was heard for the third time, he finally dragged himself off the sofa and over to the door. He would do his best to be civil, but he couldn't guarantee anything. There still was the alcohol in his system of course.
He opened his door and peeked around the corner. His heart nearly stopped.
It was like he was looking at her.
The blonde hair was the same, save the way that it was styled. The eyes as well, they shone with the innocence and excitement that was familiar, but there was nervousness about them as well. The girl stood with one arm extended to knock again, but when she saw that the door was open she quickly dropped her hand down.
"Hi, um, I was looking for…" She gave an uncertain smile.
"You were looking for your mother," Tim finished for her.
"How-?" She began, surprise in her eyes.
"Your eyes. Your hair. You look exactly like your mother," he said giving a painful smile. Steph had always hoped for the day when her daughter would find her. A fresh wave of sadness washed over him that his wife wasn't there to see this.
"Well, I uh-"
Reminding himself that there was a teenager standing outside in the cold November air he opened the door wider.
"Would you like to come in for a moment?"
The girl looked at him and quickly evaluated her options. She looked down at her watch before stepping inside. She watched quietly as Tim scrambled round the living room attempting to make his home somewhat presentable to the child of his late wife. Mainly that consisted of him picking up the dirty laundry on the floor.
The girl stood awkwardly around his living room. This was where her mother lived? The place oozed of single man. Didn't people have the decency to clean at least once and a while? She understood that this was an unexpected visit, but she didn't think people would want to live in this willingly.
"You can sit down. And I never caught your name," Tim said over his shoulder.
The girl sat gently on a chair. "My name's Rebekah."
Tim walked over and sat in the spot he was sitting in before. There was an awkward pause. What exactly do you say to your wife's kid? Tim didn't have any clue.
"How do you know my mother?" She asked.
"I married her." Tim gave a small snort. "Don't know what I was thinking. She gave me hell before we were married and that wasn't gonna change afterwards."
She smiled.
"So, um, where exactly is my mother?" The kid, Rebekah, asked.
Tim bit his lip for a moment. He knew that he would have to tell her, but he didn't think that it would be so soon. He took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, but there was an incident and she was killed." Regret and sadness filled his voice.
Rebekah nodded. For some reason her heart sank and tears began to form in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. The motion wasn't unnoticed by Tim.
"Hey, it's alright," he said.
"I don't even know why I'm crying. I didn't even know her." She sniffled a little.
Tim walked over and crouched by her side. He gripped her hand. "That's exactly why you're crying. You've never met your birth mother, and now you'll never have the opportunity. It's understandable."
Rebekah wiped her eyes again and threw her arms around Tim. He froze for a moment at the unexpected hug. Slowly he wrapped his arms around the girl. He allowed her to cry on his shoulder for as long as she would need to. Eventually she managed to pull herself together and sat back on the chair.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what I expected when I came here. I should go." She stood to leave.
Tim was quick to follow her example. He followed her to the door. She stood outside awkwardly, unsure how to say goodbye exactly.
"Well, I'm sorry that I took up your evening. I'm sure that you would have had better things to do," she said clasping her hands together.
"No, it's alright. Your mother would have been happy that you stopped by. Oh, before you go, if you would like me to answer any questions about Stephanie, give me a call. I would be glad to talk about it." He handed her a card with his name and his cell number on it.
She gave a small smile and tucked the card in her pocket.
"I will." She waved and started her walk away.
Tim watched her until her bus came and picked her up. She looked back and waved at him. He raised his hand in response. He shut the door and walked to the picture of his wife on the mantel.
"I wish you were here, Steph. I really do. I love you."
Tim went to his room and was about to crawl into his sleeping bag when his mind changed and he slipped in the bed. Slowly he drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face for once in a long while.
"I love you too. Dork."
A/N: There may be some OOCness in this I realize, but it's fanfiction right? Also, I'm not sure if I should continue this or not. So if you think that this should be continued, then by all means tell me. Reviews are always appreciated.