5 Things That Never Happened To Stephanie Brown

5 Things That Never Happened to Stephanie Brown

When Stephanie Brown put on the Robin suit that Batman gave for the first time, it felt so good. The smell of fresh kevlar, the stiffness of something not yet worn, the knowledge that this was hers and hers only.

And when she’s flitting from building to building, flipping in the places were others have been before, the Robin suit has never felt more right.

When Batman first placed his hand onto her shoulder and told her “Good job” after her first successful night out, Stephanie felt above the world.

And when the first civilian she saves beams at her and says, “Thank you Robin!” she feels warm to the core.

When she’s Spoiler and he’s Robin and they’re out patrolling together, swinging past buildings and kissing on rooftops, she feels ecstatic. When she’s Robin and he’s Tim Drake and she sneaks into his room and she gets to kiss him while looking into his beautiful blue eyes, she thinks she can live with it.

And when she’s Batgirl and he’s Red Robin and they move together with an ease that others would be jealous of, it only feels right that she reaches up and he leans down and they meet in the middle.

When her dad comes back home with the happiest look on his face and announces that he booked Bruce Wayne for his show, Stephanie and her mom jump up to congratulate him. And when he says that he can bring her onto set and introduce her to him, she thinks she has never felt happier in her life.

And when she’s finally on set, she finds that her eyes aren’t on Bruce Wayne but the younger boy following him in, who is totally her type. She thinks her heart melts when he smiles at her and introduces himself as Tim Drake.

When Dr. Stephanie Brown finds Red Robin bleeding out on her door step, she rolls her eyes and pulls out her kit, already used to the common occurrence. She silently stitches him up, and leaves some pain meds waiting for him.

And if she lingers slightly to brush his hair out of his face and her eyes stare a little too long, well, that’s nothing.

tangled and stretched (but never broken)

Timsteph Soulmate au take 3: the red string of fate

Stephanie remembers the first time she saw the red string. 

 She was six, and her grandma winked at her before making a cats cradle with the string connected to her pinkie, stretching out to the kitchen where her grandpa stood. 

 This, she murmured, placing Stephanie on her lap, is the red string of fate. Those connected by it are destined lovers, and are predetermined to always meet at some point in their lives. It can tangle and stretch, but never break. The one on the other end of the string will always the be the most match. And one day, you will find your other half, my sweet little Stephanie. 

 Stephanie nodded eagerly, imagining the time when she would find her own soulmate, her own love. 

 Bah! Her grandma’s voice suddenly changed. But your mother is stubborn. She insisted on defying the red strings of fate and marrying someone who is not her better half. This marriage will not end well, my little Stephanie. Be careful around that man, my sweet. You will have to face a hard future. 

 Years later, Stephanie can not say she is surprised when her father starts falling deeper into his criminal schemes and when her mother starts embracing her pills more than she ever embraced Stephanie. 

 Still, Stephanie is unprepared for how far her father would go to be recognized, how far her mother would fall down the abyss.

 And she slowly recognizes that she has to stop her father. 

 When she meets Robin, it’s insignificant. 

 Well, as insignificant as hitting someone with a brick. 

 When the brick cracked across his face, Robin and her ring finger jerked and she realized with that the string on her finger, the one that never seemed to end, was connected to the pinky finger of Robin.

She only saw Robin’s shocked face before she ran.

He was her soulmate, she would realize in shock when she got home and could finally think coherently.

My soulmate, she whispers to herself at night. Soulmate, the night would whisper back to her. Soulmate. 

 It took three days for Robin to track her down. (I followed the string, he whispered to her when they’re curled up together on the bed. I would’ve followed it forever to meet you.) 

 They carve out their spaces in each other’s hearts, with soft whispers of love and gentle caresses. They smile at each other under the moon, lost in each other’s warmth. 

 Then he is torn from her. 

 (I am no longer Robin, he says stiffly. And you can not visit me or else my father would grow suspicious.) 

 She becomes Robin. Then she “dies”. 

 She comes back. Then Batman dies. 

 Tim looks at her with betrayal. 

 (Don’t let me catch you in that suit again, he snarls, and her heart breaks as he tries to tear down what she worked to hard to protect.) 

 But then he’s back and she’s Batgirl and he’s Red Robin and Batman’s alive, He exclaims to everyone.

They work on a case together and she can’t help the shiver that runs up her back as his eyes drink her up in her purple dress. 

 But Batman’s back and Tim turns away from her again and she smacks Batman (her!! Stephanie Brown, normal girl who has to scream for her words to be heard.) 

 When everything settled down, she could only look from afar and feel the chasm between them, feel her string burn with an intensity at being in such close proximity with the one who completes her heart. 

Still, with the string, it’s only a matter of time before the found each other again.

 As she stands across from him, she can’t help but to remember that time, ages ago, when she was Spoiler and he was Robin and they were young and in love. Looking across at him, she can’t help but feel exactly she did at the young age of 15, looking shyly across at Tim with a soft smile. Under the moonlight, everything feels new and she feels young and innocent and ready to conquer anything with her love. 

 It doesn’t take much for them to find nirvana in one another, tangled up in sheets whispering sweet nothings to each other, feeling years of separation disappear like nothing as they giggle with each other. 

 They’ve changed but that’s okay because she still fits perfectly under his arm there and he still touches her like that and they’ve changed but they’ve also stayed the same. 

 Grandma, she whispers out to the night. I found him, the one on the other side of my string, can you see? 

 Beside her, Tim shifts and pulls her closer.

Tim Meets Ice Skating

Tim follows a specific schedule.

At 6, he gets up, gets dressed, and brushes his teeth.

At 6:30, he runs out of the house to go to work at Wayne Industries with a cup of coffee in hand. At the age of 17, he’s their youngest official worker (and he basically runs the company.)

At 12:30, he stops for a quick lunch break.

At 7, he saves all changes and leaves the building.

And at 7:30, he goes to one of the many indoor ice rinks of Gotham owned by Oswald Cobblepot. And he’s not there to skate, Time doesn’t even like skating.

No, he’s there for the blonde skater who’s always there at 7:30 helping kids out.

She’s certainly not the best skater there (but this rink is for enjoyment, not professionals), but she’s the only one who’s has that positivity just radiating off of her. She’s the only one who truly looks content, just skating gracefully while the other groups whiz by her, laughing and cheering. She’s the only one who doesn’t laugh when a kid falls but squats in front of them, coaxing them to skate, gently leading them through the rink.

She’s the only one he’s there to see.

Tim first saw her when Dick dragged him and the rest of the family there, insisting that they go for “family bonding” and “joy that can only come from gliding on ice.”

Jason had told him he was full of shit, and Tim agreed whole-heartedly.

When he did go though, he saw the blonde skating by herself and nearly fainted.

The light had been hitting her at just the right angle, highlighting her cheekbones and showing off the contours of her face. She moved languidly, legs gracefully gliding on top of the ice and no Dick he was not staring.

Somehow, he’d learned that she comes around at 7:30, there to skate by herself but also willing to help the little kids out.

Those times when she does help the children skate, compassion written on her face, they’re nice to watch. But his favorite times are when she’s left alone to skate. There, she starts to loosen up, relaxing until a small smile graces upon he face and she moves freely, like there’s not a trouble in the world.

He’s content to just watch her on the side as she laughs and spins.

But she’s not.

“Hey you, what’s the deal?” She snaps, glaring at him from the rink. “You’ve been watching me skate for weeks. Do you have anything to say?”

Blue, he realizes, staring at her. He’s never been this close to her before. Her eyes were blue, like the sky on days where clouds are nowhere to be seen and there’s a light breeze and-

“Well?” She demands, eyebrows arching. “Are you going to answer me?”

Tim flushes and offers her a flustered compliment on her skating (it stills earns him a smile though, and Tim goes him that day with spirits soaring.)

Afterwards, she always makes sure to greet him with a cheery “hello” and a blinding smile. They’d sit on the side together and just talk, first about ice skating, then about their day, their lives, their families.

Tim would watch her talk, her hands moving animatedly, her cheeks flushed, and feel this unknown sensation bubble up in his chest.

He’d still come everyday, watching her skate. She got a little more daring, executing more spins and jumps than normal (he’s not complaining, strangely enough he finds himself liking the way her legs flex, her back arch, her arms stretch.)

He loves seeing the delight and cheer on her face when she perfects a spin (his favorite is when she mastered the flying sit spin, she was so excited that she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. He went home with his head in the clouds.)

It’s December 31st and he’s walking by the ice rink when he notices the light inside (he’s pretty sure the ice rink shouldn’t be open on New Year’s Eve). He’s surprised to see Steph there, getting ready to start a spin before the door slams close.

She starts and her feet come out beneath her, crashing onto the floor.

Tim is by her side in seconds, gently helping her up and spewing out apologies faster than she can understand.

He pulls her up, careful to not hurt her and she stands up and oh.

She’s close to him. Like, really close. Like if he just tilted his head he’d be able to kiss her close.

Like Steph standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips up against his mouth close. Like Tim kissing back with all he’s got while fireworks herald in the new year close. Like Tim’s hands sliding down to fit perfectly onto her hips close.

They break apart, breathing heavily.

“Happy New Year Tim,” Steph whispers, gently leaning up to kiss his lips one more time before walking away, humming one song or another.

Tim just stands there, dazed.

Under His Nose

It’s a completely normal day when Tim finally realized it. He had woken up like normal, brushed his teeth and got dressed. He drank the coffee that Stephanie made for him and listens to her endearing reminders to remember to lift his head up and remember to eat.

She’s out the door and he feels strangely lonely. His coffee no longer holds any appeal for him. He’s bored beyond belief without her.

Sighing, he pushes away from his table and starts to walk out and–

Wait.

He blinks.

One.

Two.

Three.

Since when did Tim own a waffle iron? Especially a purple one that still has a scratch on it from when Stephanie hit a burglar with it?

Tim looked around his kitchen, and notes with horror that he does not remember owning over half of the kitchen appliances in there. In fact, at least half of his kitchen is now purple.

Eggplant, his mind supplies helpfully.

In fact, Tim distantly remembers Stephanie doing her homework on the counter while eating cookies.

He blinks again.

Did Steph move in to the second greatest detective’s home right under his nose?

He cursed.

No. Freaking. Way.

Except, that’s the only way to explain the second toothbrush and cup in his bathroom. That’s the only way to explain the worn cartoon towels that have entered in towel closet, a contrast from the plain white towels he favors. That’s the only way to explain how a frozen waffles and popsicles have entered his fridge. That’s the only way to explain why only half the stuff in his closet is his own because he doesn’t remember owning dresses or shoes or–

Oh wait.

Yeah, thats the dress that Dick accidentally bought for him, his mind only registering on the robin red part and not the floor length gown part. And those are the heels that Cass had left in his house after a party and never came to retrieve them. And those are the necklaces his mother once owned.

Phew. Okay. So she hasn’t completely moved it in while he was unaware.

Except.

Tim has more than one closet.

Resisting the urge to hit his head on the door, Tim opens up the door to what’s supposed to be his closet. He’s resigned, he already knows what he’s going to see and yep. There it is.

There’s the tattered red hoodie she could never bear to part with. There’s the black leggings she always wears because they’re comfortable. There’s the purple dress she wore when they saved Leslie. There’s the row of heels and sneakers and flats all lined up. There’s the diamond necklace he got her on a trip to France.

Tim has no idea how he did not notice Steph move in. Some detective he was.

He resolves to immediately speak with her about her living arrangements because under no circumstances was she to move in without his permission-

There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he remembers that oh right they share a bed.

And the suddenly Steph’s home and he automatically walks over to greet her and she beams at him and he wraps his arm around her shoulder.

For a minute he wonders when this has become what’s familiar to him.

Then Steph leans up and he leans down and all his former thoughts drift away…

His eyes fly open.

Is that a hamster he sees in the corner of his living room?

me externally: I write fanfic because I enjoy it! I write for myself!

me internally: validate me. drown me in kudos. i will sell my soul for comments and fic recs

reblog to educate the ignorant 

DAMIAN 🔊 WAYNE 🔊 IS 🔊 NOT 🔊 THE 🔊 FOURTH 🔊 ROBIN 🔊