Four years later, Tim and Steph finally go on their first "date" lol.

They grew up in the same old town
Never knowing the other was around
Read from the same damn books
Never gave each other looks
But one day the sun will shine, I know
For their eyes have told me so
Chasing advice from those who say I've lost my mind

-Quietdrive, "Rush Together"

Then.

Tim burst out of the cinema doors as fast as his legs could carry him, stumbling for the safety of a nearby alleyway. Slumping against the wall for support, he shakily fumbled for a cigarette and lighter, flicking it unsuccessfully to try to get it to spark.

"Fuck, fuck – c'mon."

Stephanie emerged from the entrance shortly after, glimpsing anxiously around for where her date might have gone. As she spotted him in the shadows, she crept carefully closer with a worried expression.

"Tim…? Hey, what happened? Are you all right?"

He jumped at address, gritting his teeth.

"I'm… fine. I just… needed some fresh air."

She looked down at the constantly clicking combustor in his hands.

"Well, you're not going to get that through this."

She spoke as she gently laid a palm on his trembling fist to cease its fidgety movement. …His skin was so cold.

"Look, I'm sorry for bailing." Tim swallowed. "I'm just… not really good with horror stuff, I guess. Halloween's my least favorite time of year, to be honest."

"Hm… That's surprising." Steph studied his hollow eyes as they distinctly denounced All Hallow's Eve. Tim lowered his head in shame.

"You must think I'm pathetic."

"Nah, I think it's kinda cute." She smiled, cupping his frozen paw in both of hers to thaw it. "You didn't have to try and force yourself, you know."

Tim sighed. "You just… seemed so excited about it."

Steph was about to reply when she was interrupted by her phone buzzing. She removed one extension to retrieve it as she took a quick peek at the text.

"It's Cass and Conner. I told them to stay behind while I looked for you, they're wondering where we are now." She began rapidly tapping a single-handed response in order to reassure. "I'll just let them know we're taking a walk."

"No, look, forget it. You go on inside and enjoy." Tim withdrew his hand, shoving glumly inside his pockets. "I'm heading back by myself. Coming here was a big mistake, this was all just a bad idea to begin with."

He started to stalk off, but Steph stretched out to nab his sleeve.

"Wait, what are you saying? Come on, you don't have to leave."

Tim tsked, suddenly and sullenly yanking away as he turned to sulk at her in frustrated confusion.

"Why? Why do you try so hard? I mean, it's not like I'm a lot of fun to be around. You'd be much better off with someone else."

Stephanie was taken aback by the ice in his eyes, bitterly biting his lip, as if daring her to find fault. Nevertheless, she smiled.

"Hm… I wonder why?"

She raised her fingers, counting off qualities one by one.

"You're boring, broody, gloomy, moody – not much of a talker – way too serious and uptight all the time – oh, and did I mention broody?"

"Okay, I get the picture," he bristled, not at all allayed by the vicious onslaught.

"…Where was I going with this? Oh, right." She grinned. "You may not think you have much to offer, but…." Softly, she reached out for his reluctant hand again. "Even if you've got nothing to give, you give all that you've got. I like that about you." She squeezed his palm. "You're smart, decent and honest and brave – moreso than you give yourself credit for. Heck, if I really thought about it, you're probably too good for me."

She angled in closer, causing his nerves to excite as she stared intently at his countenance.

"…Plus, you kinda remind me of someone."

He gulped, regarding her in silence for a moment. As his gaze nervously shifted behind her, he squinted at something in the shade.

"…Hey, so you're not going to use your ticket now, right? If so, can I borrow it?"

"Huh? Uh… Sure, I guess."

She fished out the stub and handed it to him. Pulling out his own, he passed her to progress towards two small children huddled together at the end of the alley: a boy and a girl, garbed in grubby rags by a group of garbage cans. They shrank into the bins as they noticed a stranger drawing near, the girl ducking to hide behind the other – most likely her brother – tiny hands clutching a dirty doll tight as her barely bigger guardian immediately advanced to protect her. Tim crouched down before them, endeavoring to make himself appear as nonthreatening as possible.

"Hey, you kids want to see a movie?"

He offered out the tickets. The first indignant indigent eyed him suspiciously, as if expecting some kind of trick instead of a kind treat, but tentatively extended out to take the passes. Tim took in their thin figures, scrawny and shivering in the fall temperature. He opened up his wallet and presented a $20 bill as well.

"Here, get yourselves some candy or something while you're at it. It is almost Halloween after all."

The urchins gaped at the generous amount of money, glancing back and forth between their benefactor and balance in astonishment. The boy eagerly tugged at his sister's hand, and they took off towards the theater. As the pair dashed, the girl twisted around to wave back with a joyous beam.

"Thanks, mister!"

Stephanie watched as Tim quietly waved back, the faintest flicker of a smile gracing his face. She strode towards him, admiring the touching act as she touched his elbow through the jacket.

"That was a nice thing you did."

The edges of his mouth diminished slightly as he surreptitiously slanted attention to the street behind them.

"…If I hadn't, that kid was going to try and steal that person's purse."

Steph blinked, following his directive to see an elderly woman passing by underneath the streetlamp, sporting said black handbag snugly by her side.

"How could you tell?"

He stiffened, unable to admit that many nights of watchful training had taught his hawk eyes to pick up on the telltale signs of someone up to no good – signs he used to exhibit himself, once upon a time.

"I just – had a gut feeling."

He stated, clearing his throat. As the pedestrian approximated, his complexion paled further upon recognizing the wrinkled visage, which up to now had been obscured by chiaroscuro and a yellow kerchief, wrapped around her head to guard against the brisk autumn chill.

"Uh, anyway, why don't we head somewhere else now."

He seized Steph's hand and was about to drag her hastily out of view, but the senior managed to spy him before he could make a move, calling out to him to prevent his escape.

"…Timothy? Is that you, dear?"

Tim grimaced, slowly revolving around with a sigh.

"…Hi, Dr. Thompkins."

She beamed broadly as she stepped out of the spotlight towards the two.

"It's good to see you, son. How are you?"

"Fine," he declared flatly as Leslie looked towards Stephanie.

"And who's this lovely little lady? Aren't you going to introduce me to your 'friend'?"

Tim exhaled as he meekly made brief introductions.

"Her name's Stephanie. Steph, this is Dr. Thompkins. She owns a clinic near here."

Steph smiled as she greeted with a cordial shake.

"How do you do, ma'am?"

Leslie amiably reciprocated the gesture.

"Quite well, thank you. Bit nippy tonight, isn't it? What are young folks such as yourselves doing standing around in the middle of Park Row on an evening like this?"

"We just came from the movies," Steph chimed with a ready chirp, to which the woman nodded sagely in understanding.

"I see, I see." She afforded an approving look towards Tim, who sweated in embarrassment. "I'm glad to see young'uns like you giving customership to an old, run-down place like this. …Sad to say though, the theater might be closing down very soon."

Tim seemed surprisingly startled by this revelation.

"Really?"

"Yes, I've spoken privately with the owner about it, we know each other well. Even though the building survived the quake, business just hasn't been the same since." (That explained the nearly-empty lobby.) "They can't keep up the revenue to maintain it, and there are still a lot of extra damages to pay for. To be honest," she confidentially hushed her tone, "There are concerns about it being a health hazard. …It's a shame, the place has been around since I moved here as a young lass. It's practically a historical landmark. But now with the economy's decline, on top of what happened with the Waynes…"

Her sight traveled subtly to the spot on the pavement where every year, a mutual "acquaintance" of theirs laid roses at rest. Tim mutely tracked her vision.

"…Anyway, I don't mean to bore you kids with an old woman's nostalgia. I'll leave you two to your engagement." She bowed her head in farewell as she rotated back towards the road and began to cross.

"Ah, let me help you," Tim proposed as he caught up with her. "I'll be right back," he preempted Steph, who nodded and stayed on the sidewalk.

The cracks and crevices around Leslie's lips widened as she gratefully accepted assistance, hooking her arm in the crook of his.

"Thank you, dear. You're such a gentleman."

As Steph observed Tim aid her across the avenue, she couldn't help but think how strong and naturally gallant he looked, standing tall and proud for someone else's sake – how the impression seemed to fit him so much better than the hunched, hyperventilating shape she had witnessed earlier. It hurt to think that they were somehow the same person. …A "half-sane" person, according to others who warned her not to get too close, involved with someone who was supposedly "batshit crazy" on top of having a sordid criminal past. If only they could see him as he was now…

On the other side, the two seemed to exchange some whispered words with each other, before Tim returned back, looking somewhat pensive.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just…" He cast a wistful look around, surveying the flashing marquee lights in the distance. "I grew up around here, actually. We didn't own a T.V., so I used to sneak into there all the time as a kid to see feature films – even the limited throwback ones like The Mark of Zorro and The Gray Ghost," he confessed, contradicting his earlier condemnation of old-fashioned flicks. "It was one of the few things to do for fun around here."

Steph listened in mild marvel. It was the first time he had ever volunteered any information about himself.

"Did you watch any R-rated ones?" she inquired with a teasing nudge.

"…Maybe," Tim muttered as he scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly averting away as he took in the decrepit surroundings again, showing the obvious wear from earth's unforgiving elements. "I guess I hadn't realized how much this neighborhood had changed. I mean, it always looked pretty beat-up, but…"

He put his hand on faded, peeling plaster, running roughly over the exposed bricks.

Unable to contain her curiosity, Steph made a cautious suggestion:

"Hey, so can I see where you lived?"

Tim flinched, looking rather disconcerted by the notion.

"Why? There's nothing special about it."

"C'mon, you've been to my house," she pleaded. "It's only fair."

He hesitantly chewed his lip, but finally acquiesced.

"Fine. It's… over this way."

He led her back through the passage, across the lane from the theater. As they approached the apartment complex, it indeed looked a little different than he remembered, likely having been remodeled after the quake. Ascending the steps and entering the reception area, its interior was of a different design as well, more posh and postmodern. Bearing left down the hallway, he immobilized at the image of one thing that had apparently remained intact despite all odds: a Wanted poster of the Joker still hanging on the wall to the right, which no one must have bothered to take down (even though the subject hadn't been sighted for so many years).

"Something wrong?"

Steph queried as her guide abruptly arrested. He shook his head, clenching his jaw and fists.

"It's nothing."

He was about to continue on when a booming voice halted him:

"Well, if it isn't lil' Timmy Drake?"

Swiveling around, Tim came face to face with a much larger male, smirking down at him.

"Yep, I'd recognize that dumb-looking baby mug anywhere. What are you doing back in Crime Alley?"

"None of your business."

Tim snapped back as Steph divided apprehensively between them. The thug loomed ominously over his prey, who boldly stood his ground, glaring back in defiance.

"Heard ya fell into some dough after yer pops bought it. What, did ya forget all about yer old pals from the slums after ya became stinkin' rich?"

"You and I were never pals," Tim snorted.

"Aw, c'mon. We had some good times, didn't we?"

"You beat up weaker kids for their lunch money, and I beat you up for picking on them."

"Tch, I just let ya get some lucky hits in. Anyway, shouldn't ya be hangin' around Wayne's playboy mansion instead of this dump?" his tongue rolled sarcastically.

Tim's eyes narrowed. "I don't live with him anymore."

"Yeah?" The brute bent down, discerning the Gotham University emblem on the other's shirt as he misread the meaning of it. "So ya think yer some snooty college brat now? Guess ya are pretty smart, huh? Or did yer new sugar daddy bribe yer way in?" He grabbed at Tim's coat collar, thrusting against the wall with a sneer. "Cool leather, bro. Very schway. Did he buy this for ya too?"

"Hey, lay off!" Steph hissed as she tried to interject. The aggressor merely leered at her.

"This your girl? Boy, ya sure are livin' the life now, ain't ya? How did someone like you land a chick like her?"

Tim burned with rage as he balled his knuckles. The guy kept goading gleefully.

"Ya know yer boyfriend here ain't a saint either. He did time in juvie like the rest of us fer stealin' from the cops."

"So?" Steph sniffed. "I know that already."

"Man, ya must be even dumber than he is then."

"Don't you fucking dare talk to her like that," Tim growled as he heaved the bully off, lifting his quivering cuff.

"Or what? Whatcha gonna do about it, huh? Take a swing at me? Go on, take yer best shot, twip."

"Oi!" the concierge hollered from the counter. "I don't give a rat's stinkin' ass what you boys are on about, but take it outside, will ya? I don't want you messin' up nuthin' and causin' a ruckus to scare tenants away, or bringin' the cops down on us."

"Well?" Tim's adversary cracked his knuckles, smacking an intimidating punch into his own enormous palm. "Ya heard the man. How about we head on out back so we can settle this? And by that I mean so I can kick your ass?"

Steph's concern mounted as she saw Tim was seriously considering consent to the challenge. She knew firsthand what a dangerous situation this could develop into – not for Tim, but his opponent.

"Tim, forget it." She grasped his hand insistently. "Let's just get out of here."

"But he-"

Her clasp constricted as she shook her head.

"He's not worth it."

Tim's teeth grinded, but the strain gradually relieved in his curled fists, stressed and impressed nails unfurling. He obediently tailed after Steph as she towed towards the exit in relief. Claiming victory by default, the gloating foe unfortunately kept jeering after the forfeiter.

"Heh, always knew ya were a fucking coward, just like yer old man. I bet being Bruce Wayne's pampered pet made ya soft too. Musta been nice, to be livin' in a fancy-schmancy manor up on a hill and paraded around as a public charity case all the goddamn time."

Tim couldn't subdue his wrath anymore as he whirled around, irises flaring with ire.

"He and I have nothing to do with each other anymore. And for the record, I got into Gotham U all on my own by studying and working hard by myself, without anyone else's help. Maybe you could too, if you weren't such a lazy dreg."

His rival scowled.

"What'd you call me?"

"Sorry, I meant 'idiot'."

Steam poured out the other's ears.

"That tears it. Come back here and say that to my fucking face, you lil' punk."

"Gladly."

"Tim, no!"

Steph gripped his shoulders, practically having to haul him out the door and down the stairs. The mocking echoed after him:

"Go on, listen to yer pretty lil' girlfriend and run like a big ol' pussy back to yer books and shit. Yer stuck-up kind ain't welcome here, ya hear?"

At the bottom of the staircase, Tim was still seething, but breathed out as he indicated he was calm enough for Steph to release him. Doubtfully, she did so.

"…I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Don't be. He was a jerk."

"You should've just let me thrash him."

She shook her head.

"It wouldn't have accomplished anything. And besides, you could've gotten hurt – again." She pointed at the lingering bandage on his forehead, size reduced to a rectangle just sufficient enough to cover the latent recovering portion and half-hidden by his bangs, but still noticeable. "You're still healing from that, remember?"

He dropped his scrutiny to the sidewalk in disgrace, recalling the close call that time as he realized she probably had prevented him from losing his temper – control – sanity – once again.

"…He's right about one thing though. You deserve somebody much better than me."

Steph frowned as she determinedly placed her palms on the margins of his chin, compelling him to elevate and look at her.

"Tim, I told you: I don't care what happened in the past. That was a long time ago. You're a different person now. Maybe you have done some bad stuff before, but you've done just as much good to make up for it." She leaned lightly against his temple, as if hoping it would somehow help convey her feelings to him, finally get it through his thick, dense skull. "I don't know a lot of what goes on in that attractive noggin of yours, but I like what I do know. And you know something else?"

"…What?"

"You're cute when you mope."

She squished his cheeks with a smile, before letting go. Taking his hand instead, she tugged the blushing boy enthusiastically along.

"Come on. Let's go for that walk."

They walked. Past numerous abandoned or vacant residences available for rent, and retail outlets in various states of disrepair – mom-and-pop shops he used to know by heart but had either closed down or were else converted to unfamiliar facilities. He felt a dull pang of… "melancholy" would be the best word to describe it – knot in his throbbing chest. As much as he had blocked out memories of this place as well, the block did hold some sentimentality for him. The city was changing – bit by bit, brick by brick – and it… might've made him just the teensiest bit homesick.

"You know, when the earthquake hit Gotham, I thought about leaving this place for good. Getting on a bus or train and getting as far, far away from here as possible, where no one knows my name, and just start all over again." He stopped, absorbing all the ruined and rebuilt structures around him, still struggling to survive in spite of… everything for some unknown reason. "I mean, why stay? Why set yourself up for more failure? For more pain? Why open yourself up to all the bad you tried to leave behind?"

She looked at him long and hard, examining the longing ache etched permanently onto his hardened features.

"Maybe… We stay for a second chance."

Delicately, she laced her fingers into his, feeling heat and the beat of their pulses sync. He mirrored her trance, locking eyes for a lengthy interval, before steadily stooping forward…

"Hah-choo!"

To her chagrin, Steph spoiled the mood herself by dodging direction and sneezing all of a sudden. She rubbed her Rudolph nose in humiliation as Tim hastily aborted the poor attempt at "amour" and retreated, noting how much her body was shuddering.

"Aren't you cold dressed like that?"

Admittedly, she hadn't prepped very appropriately for the occasion, wearing too few layers in light of the weather. …But then, she hadn't anticipated they'd be spending this much time outside. She didn't dare say that directly to his face though.

"Here," Tim promptly shed his insulation and draped it over her. She smiled as she enveloped his comfort cozily around herself, appreciating the affection radiating from it.

"Thanks. You truly are a gentleman."

He flushed again, and while she hoped he might pick up where they left off, he seemed to have chickened out after receiving the subconscious sign to stay away. She sighed in defeat, shaking her head with self-reproach. Damn her sinuses.

As he bashfully evaded her batting, begging eyes – bathed in blatant bathos – Tim's concentration fell upon a corner store nearby, a rare residual remnant from his childhood. It was an old music establishment, specializing in selling an assortment of instruments. Stephanie brightened when she traced his perspective to the grand piano behind the glass.

"Hey, let's stop in here a bit. I want to show you something."

She steered him inside, piloting straight to the piano and plopping him down on the padded plush seat, before sidling in intimately next to him.

"Sir!" she waved to the shopkeep, "Is it all right if I play this?"

"Fine, just go easy on the fortissimos."

She grinned, suspending her slender fingers over the elegant ebony and ivory keys – and began to play.

Tim spectated in silent awe as her digits danced gracefully across the board, exuding a mellifluous melody that sweetly filled the air with honeyed harmony and hope. He'd never heard anything so beautiful before.

"Steph… That's amazing…"

"Hmph," she merely grunted as she vibrated the rust off her talented tips, striving to find her groove after so long. "I was a lot better when I was younger. We had to stop my lessons though."

"How come?"

Tim perceived a minor, but palpable pause in her playing as she switched from major scale without warning, pinky slipping to harshly strike a discordant chord.

"…We couldn't afford it anymore."

She muttered finally. Firmly.

Tim suspected she seemed to be brushing off the question, and suppressed the urge to press further. If she didn't feel like sharing secrets at the moment, he certainly wouldn't pry.

Instead, he inched towards her a little bit, seeking to console through close physical contact alone. Her own rigid tension relaxed as she welcomed the effort to connect, easing on the ear as well. Tim closed his eyes, letting the soothing sound wash over himself, cleansing his soul. Composition composing.

His mind started to drift, wandering back along the boulevard, into the lower class high-rise, picking up speed by bounding up the stairwell two at a time to his own individual unit – his home – where a woman was sitting by the window, humming a tune to herself as she reflected outside. He'd happily run up to her, and she'd pick him up and cradle him in her lap, stroking his hair as she rocked and sang. He couldn't remember the words exactly, but it didn't matter. They made him feel warm and cherished and secure all the same…

…

When he fluttered his eyes open, the blurred semblance he saw hovering over him wasn't the woman's (of course), but Stephanie's.

"Well look who's finally awake," she chuckled. "Good timing too, the store's about to close soon. …Plus my legs are getting kinda numb."

He instantly sat up in panicked alarm, sensing his own jacket slide off of him, having been tucked around him as a blanket.

"I… fell asleep?"

"Yup." Steph pretend-pouted as she poked playfully at his cheek. "Guess my playing must've been that boring."

"I didn't… say or do anything weird while I was asleep, did I?"

"No," Steph tilted in bafflement. "It looked like you were having a nice dream. I was tempted to draw on your face though, it almost made me jealous. …Why?"

"Nothing, it's just that…" He threaded a hand through his hair in disbelief. "I haven't really been able to sleep normally since- in a long time."

"Insomnia?"

"…Something like that."

"Maybe I should record myself playing on a CD and lend it to you," she mused.

"That… That'd be nice."

He wanted to tell her. That it was more than just the music. It was the fact that the bench was soft. And Steph was warm. And he felt… okay.

As the owner shooed them out at last, they arranged to meet up again with Cass and Conner outside the cinema. The four took the bus back to campus together, Steph and Conner mostly occupying the conversation in the meantime as the former drilled the latter on what he thought of the picture until he finally confessed he dozed off during it. Cassandra had brought along another book to read on the ride (although she continued to watch Conner flounder from her stealthy vantage), so that left Tim looking out the window as the glowing city scrolled by, paying idle heed to his companions' almost-reminiscent banter in the background…

As they arrived at the gate, Conner conducted the way in order to escort the girls back to their dorm, since Tim had still never been there before. Before bidding goodnight, Stephanie took Tim aside.

"Listen, I had a really great time tonight."

"…Seriously?"

In sum total, he had pretty much spent half of their "date" either comatose or avoiding his partner. He couldn't imagine how it could've been any fun – or fair – to her.

"Well, let me put it this way then: It's not the worst first date I've ever been on."

She giggled as Tim grimly hung his head in apology.

"I mean, what's a 'date' supposed to be anyway? All parades and candy and 'tra la la'? I'm just glad we got to spend some time together, getting to know each other. This is what it's all about."

She inclined forward to tenderly peck his cheek.

"Besides, we'll do better next time, won't we?"

She winked with a cheerful wave, before joining her roommate within. Tim wavered, before waving back as she shut the door.

…"Next time", she had said.

He was disrupted from his reverie by Conner half-leaping on him, linking his long limb around the other's shoulders in a loose headlock.

"So… Where'd you two lovebirds run off to?"

He waggled his brows, digging into his roomie's ribs to get him to dish the deets.

"We just went for a walk."

Conner deflated in disappointment at the anticlimax.

"…Just a walk? Is that all?"

"Yeah."

Tim smiled.

"Just a walk."

…

The following day, Leslie was rather surprised by an unannounced visitor at her clinic doorstep, although to be fair he was a frequent long-term patient. …There didn't seem to be any emergency this time though, as he simply said hello and asked to pardon the intrusion sans an appointment as any "normal", polite person would. He had seemed to be doing well enough when she saw him last night after all, so she couldn't fathom what might've brought him here out of the blue (though it was an unusually pleasant change of pace to see him in relatively good spirits for once).

"I was… hoping you could maybe help me with something."

He shuffled uneasily as he said this, and Leslie felt she was beginning to catch on.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your… 'lady friend', would it?

"Um… Kinda." He awkwardly scrubbed his scruff.

"I see. Well, if you need supplies, I can certainly provide you with some…"

"What?" Tim turned beet red as he comprehended her misconception. "Nonono! I didn't mean it like that." He motioned wildly to deny need for contraception. "We're not… there yet. We haven't even- er… Never mind." He mumbled, trailing off.

The physician cocked an eyebrow, now clearly even more puzzled than before.

"Well, if it's not that, may I ask what's this about then?"

Tim stabilized himself, and inhaled deeply.

"I was… wondering if you could… help me to quit smoking?"

A ray of delight dawned on the doctor's aspect.

"Now that I can most certainly help with."

Rush together to find each other
Now it's too late, you can never wait for luck
Forever bound by the same instrument
Which we all adhere that's guilt