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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"I don't really know what would shake her," Babs shrugs. "I mean... she didn't really get hurt, of course, and... she hasn't said anything."

Cass has always been hard to read.

"She didn't -- who did get hurt?" Steph asks sharply, a note of panic in her voice.

"You did," Babs points out.

"Who that matters."

Barbara's face twists slightly.

...

"Dick got hurt. Not nearly as bad as you."

Nightwing got hurt.

Because of her.

She nods, accepting that knowledge grimly. "Will he heal?"

"Yeah. Like I said, it wasn't that bad."

Which isn't strictly true. "Besides, you know how tough he is."

"You said not as bad as me, you didn't say 'not that bad,'" Steph says, with a small smile. She draws her knees to her chest, curled up on the bench, a small and compact ball of girl. "I know how bad I was."

"Yeah, well, no one was as bad as you."

Barbara smiles just a bit in return. "And you made it."

Steph reaches out for Babs's hand.

"Thanks to you."

She will never forget how close to dying she was.

Barbara shrugs uncomfortably. "Like I said. I had help."

"If you won't tell me who - will you thank them, from me?"

"I will," Barbara nods slightly. "But I suspect that some of them might mention it to you."

"'Kay." Steph nods, and makes a note of figuring out just how she'll thank everyone properly. It's going to matter.

She glances at Babs. "You're from - are you from the same time as me? I didn't even check. But if you just talked to me on the phone, you must be, right?"

Barbara nods. "Yeah. Same time."

It had had to be that way for Babs to do what she'd wanted to do.

"So you're in Gotham, and I'm in Africa, but we're both - here."

It's kind of funny. In that overwhelming way.

"Is anyone else from our time?"

"Not so far." Babs shrugs. "There are people from all over the timeline, though."

"I've got so much to learn. Or re-learn."

"Like what?" Babs asks, cocking her head slightly.

Steph swallws, resting her head on her knees. "Everything. It's like I've just been given six years of memories to -- somehow make sense of. But I don't remember them all that clearly."

"It's a lot to take in," Barbara nods thoughtfully. "I suspect," hope, "that you just need time to assimilate it all."

"If I leave," Steph says, looking worried, "how do I know I can get back?"

"You found your way once, didn't you?" Barbara asks.

Babs, of course, has a fixed door, and she'll offer its use to Steph if that's necessary, but... She rather doubts it will be.

"I just tried to go inside. And I was thinking about doors... and about what I remembered." She digs in her pocket to hold up the small, out-of-date cell phone, as if it might explain anything.

Shockingly, it doesn't.

"And what do you remember?"