milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Barbara rolls into the bar, and automatically looks around.

She spots a young blond woman behind the bar's massive length.

She swallows. And heads straight for the ladies' restroom where she looks around to make sure no one's there before taking a deep breath, leaning her head down into her lap, and beginning to laugh. And laugh and laugh. Until she starts crying in relief, the tears streaming down her cheeks almost unnoticed as she throws her head back.

"YES!"

[You're welcome to catch her if you're, you know, in the ladies'.

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"Don't I look okay?" Babs asks with a slowly widening smile at that touch.

"Honestly? Nope." Steph smiles a little, still uncertain of her place with Babs. "But ... you sound it."

"Well, I am it."

Barbara finally feels like she has herself under control enough to glance over her shoulder at the girl that hand is attached to. "Hey, you. You're looking better."

"That wouldn't be hard."

Considering Babs last saw her as a beaten, bleeding mess.

"Doors, Babs?"

Babs positively beams.

"Doors," she agrees.

"Hell of a coincidence, you talking to me and then me turning around and being here," Steph says suspiciously, reaching for the paper towels to wipe a bit of TotallyNotTears from Bab's chin.

"Sometimes that's how things go," Barbara says, reaching up to take the paper towels, and taking a moment to revel in the feel of warm flesh under her fingers.

Steph blinks rapidly, trying to keep her own face straight.

Maybe a tiny lip-tremble is okay.

"I nearly forgot - everything. It's still hard to remember. But - Babs, I was dead?"

"Was."

That was the operative word.

"And nearly."

But she hadn't forgotten.

"You saved me?"

It's not quite a question. Who else would have?

"Well, I had some help."

A lot of it.

Steph swallows down the lump in her throat.

"... Why?"

The other Steph had had six years to learn to live with burning Gotham down, killing all those people. It's still terribly fresh, for this one.

"Because I owed it to you," Barbara says, still smiling even as her eyes darken slightly.

She'd lost track of Stephanie in all the chaos. Hadn't even thought to look for her. And look what had happened.

Steph stuffs her hands into the pockets of her shorts, wishing it wasn't so hot in Africa and wishing she'd been wearing long sleeves and pants.

"Babs, I - you know I started it. Everything. The war."

"What I know," Barbara says, "is that that's not true."

Steph sits down on the Convenient Washroom Bench to be at a better height, folding her arms around herself.

"Sure."

"You don't believe me."

That's not a question.

Steph gives her a small smile. "You're smart."

Everyone knows that.

"And I know things," Babs adds helpfully.

"Not all the things, apparently." Steph smiles at her, awkwardly. "Leslie said Batman cut off your network. Maybe you missed how it started."

"I know how it started," Babs answers softly. "There isn't much that people can keep hidden from me. Not if it's in a computer."

Steph looks at the floor. Fascinating tiles.

"I wouldn't have rescued me. I didn't even save Orpheus. I didn't save anyone."

Barbara reaches out and lays a hand silently on Steph's shoulder.

Steph will not break down.

She hasn't talked to anyone about this. Not even the therapists. They didn't know who she was, what she'd done. alked about the torture, sure. Not about why it happened. Not about what Steph did.

Still, bathrooms are the place for emotional discussions. Everyone knows that.

She swallows fiercely. "What happened in Gotham? After I - after?"

"It survived," Barbara says softly. "It... began to recover."

Like it always does.