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Overhead, the concrete and stone crumbled suddenly. Steph backpedalled, bumping into Jason’s solid form and falling back, hitting the ground hard. Well, Jason hit the ground hard, and Steph had a much softer landing, though when she rolled off him, she immediately hit a murky puddle that she definitely didn’t want to examine too closely.
She stayed there, staring at the exit tunnel with dismay. It had fully collapsed, leaving her and Jason trapped. “Shit.”
She nudged Jason, who was still lying on his back motionless, hoping he wasn’t unconscious. He batted her hand away, making no attempt to stand up. “I’m just going to stay here and pretend like what I think happened just didn’t happen.”
“You mean, that not only did Killer Croc escape, but he outwitted us and now we’re trapped in an abandoned tunnel?” Really, the gross puddle was the only thing keeping Steph from joining Jason in his sulk.
“Yep, that’s the thing,” Jason said. He draped one arm over his forehead and sighed. “Exactly how fucked are we?”
“Well,” Steph said, “the good news is that I’m pretty sure the rest of the tunnel would have collapsed already, if it was going to.” The support beams were still standing, and the collapse had mainly involved the main branch of the tunnel. “We can check back that way, in case there’s a branch we missed before, but I’m pretty sure this one is a dead end.”
Jason surveyed the collapsed tunnel. Two leaning support beams seemed to be the only thing keeping the ceiling above their heads instead of crushing them instantly, and they were precariously balanced on the rubble. Jason experimentally grabbed a chunk of concrete from the rubble, and the entire mass groaned alarmingly.
“Uh, I would prefer to not be squished like a bug,” Steph said, moving further back.
“Yeah, it sucks,” said Jason, and Steph was absolutely not going to argue the finer points of exploding building vs collapsing sewer, so she nobly kept quiet.
“Do we want to chance playing Deadly Sugar Crush,” Steph said, looking at her communicator, “or do we hope that this distress signal does in fact make it to the surface?”
“Still have a signal on yours? Mine’s crushed.”
Steph nodded. Her communicator was dead, but it still lit up, so she was assuming the homing signal was probably still working. The light flickered, as though it wasn’t actually sure if it was sending or not, but she chose not to bring that up. Not this early into their predicament.
“Great,” Jason said. “So it’s waiting for the calvary for us?”
“Probably the smart play,” Steph agreed, even though it went against every instinct she had.
“Fucking sucks,” Jason said. He moved back into presumably safer half of the tunnel, a decent distance from the collapse itself, which seemed only somewhat stable. He flopped down on the ground, then leaned back until he’d resumed laying in the sewer, staring up at the ceiling.
Steph followed him there, feeling the questionable liquid she’d fallen in drip uncomfortably into her boot. She looked at the grimy ground and decided to she’d rather explore the tunnel they were in instead. She shone her light carefully into every crevice, but her initial impression was accurate: it was a dead-end tunnel, with only a half-dozen pipes with grated covers offshooting, and the largest of those was roughly six inches in diameter.
She shone a light into the widest of these small entrances but found only darkness beyond it. It was hard telling the origin of the pipe, and there was no hope of exploring further.
Eventually she returned to Jason, sitting on the ground in the dryest possible spot across from him, leaning against the curved wall of the sewer and sighing. “Maybe we’ll just die here and no one will find out that we were outsmarted by Killer Croc.
“We can dream.” Jason tapped at his communicator again, and once it didn’t respond, pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Still no signal at all. How deep are we?”
“Shouldn’t be that far down,” Steph said. She checked her own phone, knowing full well what she was going to see, and yep. No signal of any type. “It figures that even when I do things by the book it ends in disaster.”
“There’s no way they’re going to believe we did things by the book,” Jason pointed out. “One of us, maybe. Both? Forget it.”
“To be fair, we never really work together,” Steph said, “so they have no evidence to say otherwise.”
Jason pushed himself back onto his elbows, looking directly at her for the first time since the collapse. “Why is that?”
Steph fiddled with her cape as she met his eyes. She hadn’t sought him out, true, but she’d always been curious. “Because I hardly know you? Though...” She trailed off, unsure if she wanted to take a perfectly civil conversation down that particular path.
“Though?” Jason prompted. His hair was falling over his face and he looked unfairly good for someone who was sprawled out in a sewer, and Steph chose to focus on that rather than her own words.
“I think they probably don’t want us to work together much. Like, before, I got more than a few lectures on how I was just way too much like you.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected from that, but it wasn’t Jason laughing.
“What?” she said, indignant.
“Bruce thought you were too much like me? Did he forget when I was dead that I wasn’t actually Dickie 2.0?” Jason grinned at her.
“Wait, you think I’m more like Dick?” Steph was delighted. “Can you tell Bruce that so I can watch his brain short out?”
“Why? I mean, you’re always so damn cheerful,” Jason’s grin faded a bit. “And you flirt almost as much as Dick.”
“I think that Bruce always focused on how I didn’t follow orders and am too stubborn and hit too hard and the fact that we basically had the exact same upbringing,” Steph said, because it wasn’t like she could debate the flirting thing. Babs had put out a memo that Detective Gage was to henceforth to be referred to as Detective Cutiepants, and had shared with her the absolutely delightful results.
There were other similarities, too, but she left them unspoken. She preferred to leave it in the past, unlike Jason, who wore his darkest moments like armor.
Jason waved his hand. “Minor quirks.”
Steph briefly resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, then gave in. It wasn’t like Jason was some hero she had to try to impress; he was a former Robin.
Which, thinking of… “So here’s something I’ve been wondering,” she began, “When you started out as Robin… Did Bruce just hand you Dick’s old costume and expect it to just work?”
“Yes!” Jason sat upright, leaning forward. “Please don’t tell me he did that to you.”
“Oh but he did,” Steph said, and gestured down at her assets, “even though it’s very obvious why it wouldn’t work.”
“Why is he such a weirdo?” Jason shook his head. “Like, clearly a genius, but… you know how they talk about Einstein failing classes in school?”
“Right? He misses some of the most obvious things,” Steph shook her head. “I always wondered. Like, obviously Dick got to pick his own outfit, and then Tim did, too, but…”
“We just got stuck in their hand-me-downs,” Jason said.
“Like, I had to ask the man to give me an outfit with more booty-support,” Steph said. “Out loud, Jason. Sometimes I worry Scarecrow will fear-toxin me and I’ll just relive that moment, over and over..”
Jason was laughing again, and Steph quietly decided that she was going to get him to laugh as much as possible, every time she saw him. It was a much better look than the snarls and smirks he wore so much of the time.
“Well, at least that one fits you well,” Jason said, gesturing towards her Batgirl uniform.
Steph patted the purple fondly and said, “I started out in Cass’s, and that is just not the look for me.”
“It definitely isn’t designed for your amount of mouthing off,” Jason agreed.
“Oh, I know that you, of all people, did not just comment on someone being overly chatty,” Steph said, because she might blurt out way too much of her internal monologue while on patrol but she wasn’t nearly as much of a smartass as Jason was.
He held his hands up in surrender, wry expression on his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing!”
“Damn right it’s not.” Steph crinkled her nose at him, and she was rewarded with another of those smiles.
Jason pushed himself up to his feet, and held out a hand to help her up. “Let’s look one more time. There has to be some way out of here.”
“I know, I keep feeling like Bruce is hanging over my shoulder with the world’s most disappointed look on his face,” Steph admitted. “Even though he’s been trapped places like, so many times.”
She realized she was still holding his hand, and found herself reluctant to let go. She was still wearing her gloves, but could still feel the heat radiating off him. Jason himself didn’t seem to notice, or else he was really good at appearing nonchalant. She hadn’t spent enough time with him to know which.
After all her overthinking, their hands fell naturally apart as they gave the tunnel another fruitless look through. No means of escape or any clear signals for the communicators magically appeared.
As boredom threatened to set in, they played an improvised game of Horse involving throwing small bits of debris at the few small drain pipes in increasingly complicated ways. Jason won, after making three different banked shots in a row that Steph couldn’t quite master. When she asked about how he got so good at making shots, he justified it by pointing out how much time he’d spent with Roy, though Steph didn’t quite see how proxy to an Arrow made one better at throwing crushed cement.
Eventually, Jason settled himself back onto the ground, picking a dry spot and leaning against the curved wall of the tunnel. He pulled out his phone and started reading. Steph moved beside him,cautiously resting her cheek against his shoulder as she peered at his screen, expecting a casefile or a blueprint of the city sewers or something useful.
Instead she found Jason was reading Austen.
“You like this one?” he asked, flicking the screen with a practiced thumb to the next page. He didn’t pull away from her, and she could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders. Being close to Jason was comfortable, she found -- not at all what she would have expected. She was glad.
“Haven’t read it,” Steph admitted. She got an incredulous stare. “Hey, I didn’t spend a lot of time reading for fun. And when I did, it was never anything classic.”
She didn’t bother pointing out the failings of the Gotham public schools, because Jason had attended them for almost as long as she had. He had Annie-d up and gone to a fancy school before he died, but as far as she knew his formal education had stopped there. She might have gone public up until she’d gotten her GED, but now she was in college, and her freshman gen ed courses had taught her exactly how much she’d missed out on.
“That’s the most horrifying thing you’ve said all night,” Jason informed her solemnly, and shifted so that she settled more comfortably against him, propping his arm on her raised knee so they could both see the screen clearly. “You’ve at least seen the movie, right?”
“Of course, I’m not an animal,” Steph said. She didn’t clarify which one; she was sure Jason had opinions on the matter.
“Then you can probably pick up from here.” Jason sounded doubtful, like telling someone to start reading a book midway through was the last possible thing he’d recommend, but Steph just shrugged and settled in to read.
At first they read silently, but the awkwardness of finishing at different times made Jason start reading aloud. He was an expressive reader, clearly enjoying the old-fashioned turns of phrase and familiar with the language, and Steph felt like this was a side of Jason he didn’t let many people see.
She wondered what she’d done to be included in that list. She took a turn every few pages, her lack of familiarity with the text making her a little less polished than Jason but she made up for it in enthusiasm, lending different voices to each character that had Jason’s shoulders shaking.
“You’re really good at that,” he commented.
“Thanks! I’ve been reading Harry Potter over the comms when I know Robin is patrolling,” Steph confessed. “Part of Mission: Give That Kid A Childhood.”
Jason grinned, and Steph had the feeling she was going to have a larger audience next time she dove back into Hogwarts. She was surprised to find that she didn’t hate the idea.
“He needs it,” Jason said. “When I was…. Well. I saw some of what Talia did to that kid. No one deserves to be raised like that, not even a little shit like him.”
“It took Talia way too long to figure out she wasn’t mom material,” Steph agreed. “Like, she’s supposed to be smart? It’s not that hard to put your baby first. I figured that shit out when I was fifteen.”
Jason looked blank. Steph had assumed her teen pregnancy was something that came up on the Stephanie Brown Primer that he’d obviously received, but apparently not.
“I had a kid,” she explained. “I was way too young and my home life was way too shitty, so I gave her up for adoption.”
“Oh,” Jason said, and added, after a beat, “I was adopted.”
Steph knew that, knew the circumstances surrounding his untimely death, and wondered what she would do if her daughter ever sought her out. Not sell her out to the Joker, for starters.
“What your mom did to you was super shitty. Giving up your kid is --” She thought of how it had felt, leaving that hospital alone, body battered and arms empty, but secure in the knowledge that she’d done the right thing-- “It’s hard, but giving you up is probably the best thing that woman ever did for you. She didn’t deserve you.”
“Some people shouldn’t have kids,” Jason said. “I think you’re not one of them, though. One day you’ll be a great mom.”
“You’ll be a great dad,” Steph told him, because it was obvious he would be. He was someone who cared, deeply. “We’re both gonna break the ole generational curse of shittiness.”
“Starting with the Al Ghuls’, apparently.” Jason held out his fist to bump, and Steph did, happily.
They stayed there, shoulder to shoulder, until Steph drifted off, the hours she’d been awake past her usual bedtime and the stresses of the day overtaking her. She knew Jason wouldn’t let anything happen to them. She felt safe with him beside her.
*
A clatter from the darkness at the end of their tunnel startled Steph awake, jerking away from Jason. She had left a smear of drool on the shoulder of his leather jacket, but figured with all the grossness down here, he’d probably never notice. She tried to wipe it away surreptitiously by patting Jason on the shoulder to wake him up. Probably she should have told him she was expecting him to keep watch; though being trapped in a tunnel with no discernable exits did make having someone stay awake to keep watch overkill.
“Huh?” he said blearily, and he looked so soft and sweetly confused in the dim light that Steph felt a wild urge to kiss him.
“I think the cavalry’s here,” she said instead, pushing the urge down deep where she could examine it later, when Jason wasn’t right there in front of her.
Jason blinked, and the softness disappeared. He was on his feet before Steph was, and she readjusted her cowl just in case it was a foe, not friend, coming to the rescue.
A glowing circle appeared in the ceiling of the sewer, and Steph stepped forward, lifting her cape Dracula-style in front of herself and Jason, as the circle of old cement and brick fell into a puddle of murky water, splattering muck everywhere. She dropped her cape, and Jason fist-bumped her in appreciation as they headed towards the new exit hatch carved into the tunnel.
“Batgirl? Red Hood?” Dick appeared upside down, head poking through the hole. He beamed when he saw them. “Need a hand?”
“And a shower,” Steph said gratefully, grinning up at him. She jumped, grabbed his hand, and found herself boosted into another tunnel. She considered brushing some of the grime off her outfit but figured it was a lost cause, since she’d already slept in a sewer in it. Probably it would require Alfred-levels of cleaning.
Then she realized that she had a pretty glorious view of Dick Grayson’s backside as he helped Jason up, so she was gazing admiringly at it when Jason emerged from the hole. Probably she should be embarrassed, but Steph chose to believe she had evolved past shame.
“It took forever to find you guys,” Dick was saying, and Steph forced herself to focus on his words. “We were getting a signal from Steph’s communicator, but it was really weak -- these old tunnels run deep, and with all the power lines running under the surface, it’s a miracle we could pick it up at all.”
“Super glad you did,” Steph said.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have wanted to die in a knockoff Cask of Amontillado meme,” Jason said. “None of you assholes would even read the original at the funeral or anything.”
Steph stage-whispered to Dick, “And I thought Tim was the nerd of the family.”
It was absolutely worth it to see the look of indignation battling with pride on Jason’s face, like he wasn’t quite sure if he should be mad or not. Dick snickered, glancing between them with blatant relief.
It hadn’t actually occurred to her that the others might have thought that she and Jason wouldn’t get along. She supposed it made sense -- they were both stubborn, similar and known for being impulsive and hot-headed, and she supposed that if they had gotten off on the wrong foot it might have gone really badly.
She was really glad it hadn’t; she couldn’t be sure, but she thought that she could be close to Jason.
The tunnel they were in lead to another, and Dick followed a series of directions from Oracle. As she walked, Steph realized that Killer Croc had led them far deeper into the sewers beneath Gotham than she’d thought. Not that it surprised her, running and filled with adrenaline and (she could admit to herself, but never aloud) showing off to Red Hood like she’d been at the time.
Dick chatted brightly on their trek -- about finding them, about how concerned Bruce was (Steph knew exactly who for, though she doubted Jason would agree), and how Damian had actually asked after Steph’s welfare.
“Aww,” she said as Jason raised an eyebrow at her. “I should take him to the roller rink. Or do you think he’d be good at that? I try not to take him to anything he’d be too successful at. Gotta teach the kid humility.”
“Good luck,” said Jason, and she really wasn’t sure if he was being facetious or not. She was learning that with Jason it wasn’t always obvious.
“We’re almost there!” Dick said. “There’s a manhole cover just ahead.”
It was already loosened; clearly Dick had led them out the same way he’d found his way to them. Steph gave him a hug, thanking him profusely for the rescue, and gave Jason a smile and a wave, not sure if he’d appreciate a hug or not. Or if it would be weird, to give him a hug thanking him for being trapped in a tunnel together.
Probably she was overthinking it, which… she didn’t want to look at the why of that too closely.
Jason solved the problem by reaching out a fist, and she bumped it with her own.
She made it home, launching herself gratefully into her shower and declaring her eternal love to both hot water, soap and her favorite fluffy towel.
*
A soft knock at her window woke Steph. She sat up, peering through the glass, and instead of Cass or Tim, Jason was crouched there, looking sheepish.
She crawled out of bed, tugging her pajamas into order from where they’d twisted around her body in her sleep -- she must have been dreaming again. She unlocked the window, gesturing for Jason to come inside. “Hi?” she said, because it wasn’t like this was a normal occurrence.
“Yeah, I know,” Jason said, “We probably aren’t on the climb through your window at night tier of friendship yet, but…” He pulled a battered paperback out of his jacket pocket. “I couldn’t sleep knowing you haven’t finished reading Pride and Prejudice.”
“I do know how the story ends,” Steph said, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
“Yes, but the journey’s what it’s all about,” Jason said, and wow, how had literally no one told her that Jason Todd was such a corndog. She was beginning to think that maybe all the murder he’d done had been some form of compensation, trying to make everyone forget that he was a total nerd.
And she hoped that had been her inside voice, because Jason was looking at her in a strange, fond way. She sat cross-legged on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “Well?”
Jason pulled off his leather jacket and draped it over her chair, then sat in it and removed his boots. He was wearing Wonder Woman socks, and Steph for some reason just couldn’t stop grinning.
He crawled into her bed. She leaned her knee against his thigh as he crossed his ankles comfortably in front of him, thinking how unfathomable it would have been to her two days ago to picture this kind of casual intimacy with Jason. The strangest part was how natural it felt.
She could write it off easily -- they might not have spoken face to face, but they knew more about each other than most people did about anyone who wasn’t family. They’d both been Robin, and maybe Steph didn’t wear that badge quite as proudly as the rest, but it still forged a bond.
Shared history might be it, but she thought it was something about who they were, that Jason and Stephanie as people, regardless of the masks, just clicked. Jason had sought her out, was now leaning against her, warm and solid, flipping through a paperback that had honest-to-god annotations to find the spot they’d stopped at with the copy on his phone.
Without having to ask, Steph started reading. Jason leaned his head back, content, despite the fact that he wore bruises on his knuckles that he hadn’t when they’d been locked up. He caught her looking, and said, “Croc’s in Arkham, now.”
“Did you not sleep at all?” Steph had taken the night off from patrolling, knowing that she was too exhausted after having only a nap while sitting in a sewer the night before. Unlike some Bats, she understood that exhaustion hindered performance.
“I don’t have much else to do, so I got him during the day,” Jason replied, which didn’t precisely answer her question.
“Stay,” she said, impulsively. She probably wouldn’t have had the nerve if she’d thought more than a second about having Jason stay the night at her house, but the invitation felt right. He nodded, and Steph hoped that her mom wouldn’t make too big a deal about it in the morning.
She read a while longer, until Jason’s breath evened out. She slipped out of bed, found her favorite fuzzy blanket, and carefully draped it over him, before crawling back into her spot and burrowing under her own covers.
Warm and content, she was asleep soon after her head hit the pillow.